


Legacy

by summerjuliet



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Child Death, Gen, Parent Death, Sibling Death, implied sucide/mention of suicide, implied/mentioned self harm, mostly an oc story sorry guys, warning for brainwashing from psychological manipulation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-06 22:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 48,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerjuliet/pseuds/summerjuliet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A group of young Equalists try to get through their jobs and duties while hiding secrets, dealing with traumas of their pasts, avoiding the law, and being stuck in a story with a description that sounds like a sit-com.</p><p>*Major updates/rewrites in progress.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic that I've been working on for several months, writing and rewriting, and posting in very tiny corners of the internet (if it's familiar to anyone). It mainly focuses on an OC cast going through most of my "what ifs" from season 1 that still kept with the canon and didn't go very far into AU territory. It also deals with one of my biggest pet peeves that I got fed up with not being addressed (benders resenting their bending). As they're all Equalists, you can expect high levels of universe racism, so you've been warned.  
> Not much but backstory in this first section, but I think it's still pretty good (and if it isn't, it's at least necessary). Hope you enjoy! (Fair warning: I haven't seen all of s2 yet so let's pretend this exists in a vacuum where s2 hadn't been released yet)

I’ve heard it said that the memories you keep are the ones you want the least. Maybe that’s why I remember being six so vividly. Tam, my little brother, was a baby then. We were on our way home from my school, my mom driving our way-too-expensive satomobile. Dad swore that he could pay it off. We didn’t need insurance--that cost too much. Dad gave up two weeks of pay just for the down payment. No employee discount for garage monkeys. He said that nothing bad could happen, not to something that was brand new.

Sometimes I wonder if he regrets being an idealist then, and that’s why he became a cynic.

Traffic was backed up across the bridge. We weren’t sure why. Mom vehemently denied that there had been an accident somewhere up ahead, but I knew I was right. Turns out, it was just typical afternoon traffic in Republic City. Anyway, mom pulled off onto the first ramp she could find, soothing me and promising that this really was a shortcut home, she knew where we were. When I kept arguing, she finally gave in, and told me that we would wind up at home eventually if we drove around enough, and wasn’t it better to be moving instead of just sitting in a gridlock?

Now, we didn’t live in the best part of the city. We weren’t quite in the slums, but we weren’t high class, either. I could tell that where we wound up wasn’t our bad part of the city. If anything, it was worse. No one walked out on the streets, the shops were all closed with bars over the windows, one building had a “condemned” sign hanging on the door…

“Kirin,” My mother’s voice was a harsh whisper from the front seat. “Put your head down and cover your brother.”

I didn’t understand then why it was important to keep my head down, but I did it anyway. I always did everything my mother said. Well, most of the time. I pulled Tam over into my lap from where he had been crawling on the back seat. He giggled and gurgled like we were playing a game. I peered out of the window one last time, trying to see what has phased my unphasable mother. A shopkeeper stood out on the sidewalk talking with three other men. The men probably weren’t the most reputable looking of people, but I was six, and I couldn’t quite draw that distinction yet. The man in the long purple coat didn’t set off any alarm bells in my head.

I ducked back down over Tam, making faces at him. He laughed even more, his little limbs flailing and kicking. His legs braced themselves against my collarbone.

The next thing I heard was a deafening boom as the world started to spin. A solid crack echoed inside my mind. I must have closed my eyes, probably when the car started flipping, because when I opened them again, my cheek was pressed against shattered glass and the pavement through the window. Some part of my mind recognized that that wasn’t right and since when was my head bleeding before I blacked out completely.

When I woke up again, I was in the back of an ambulance. I was strapped down to the stretcher, a middle-aged woman standing over me. I remember distinctly that her hair was an oddly light shade, and that I wanted very badly to touch it.

“So glad to see you’re awake, lovely,” Her voice sounded like music. I’ve never found out if that’s the way she always sounds, or if whatever drugs they were pumping into me were worth the money we shelled out. Her nametag said she was June, which I thought fit perfectly. “How are you feeling?”

In all honesty, I was completely numb. I watched myself wiggle the fingers of my right hand, but I didn’t actually feel them move. My voice came back to me, tinny and small. “Okay.”

“Good,” She nodded, brushing the hair out of my eyes. She turned away quickly, but I saw the blood on her fingers. “That means the medicine’s working, and you’re going to be all better!”

I blinked at her. “What’s wrong with me?”

That caught her off guard. Her voice lost its music for a moment. “Your left arm’s broken, as are a few of your ribs, and you’ve got a nasty ankle sprain. We’ll get you patched up and you’ll be alright.”

“Where’s my mommy?” Even inside, the sirens were deafening. I was all alone except for June, and she wasn’t a lot of comfort. June only looked at me out of the corner of her eye. I knew what she meant. “Wh-where’s Tam?”

“Your father’s been called, lovely,” She switched the subject. “Lovely man, I know him. He’s very worried and he’s going to meet us at the hospital. Are you a bender, lovely?”

She wasn’t very good at hiding the syringe behind her back. She also wasn’t very good at lying. She wouldn’t have had to ask me if she had known my father back then--he practically paraded me around the city.

So instead I shook my head and made some kind of “uh-uh” noise in my throat and watched her put the syringe away. That was the first time I lied about what I could do.  


***

I was in way over my head at the hospital. Waterbending healers worked alongside technology. They kept me strapped down to the stretcher I was on, although June tried to hold my hand. She wasn’t my mother. This was a strange place to me, a different world from the one I lived in, and I was afraid. At least I didn’t look as out of place as my father.

He stood at the emergency room desk, talking animatedly to the receptionist. He hadn’t changed out of his work clothes. He must have come straight from the garage to here; the oil on his jumpsuit still looked fresh. There were very few reputable places in the city at that time that would hire non-benders, and he’d gotten lucky with a job offer from the local satomobile repair shop. They claimed that they needed smart men like him. My father was a smart man, never think he wasn’t, but what they really needed were men without the power to fight back when they paid him less than he was due. Men too afraid to try and challenge a bender.

As soon as he saw me, he crossed the room in two long strides. I didn’t realize how tall he actually was until that moment.

“Kirin!” His voice was a little too loud, as if he thought I couldn’t hear him. “Kirin, baby, I’m here. Can she hear me? Is she sedated? Where’s my son?”

June’s fingers shifted to my wrist. “He’s already been taken to the infant care center. It’s a block and a half away. Healing is often dangerous for children his age, and his injuries were more severe than hers’. They’re better equipped than we are.” She paused for a moment, realizing what he’d said. “And why would she need to be sedated now?”

“She’s a firebender,” Dad replied. He ran a hand through his hair, looking between me and the door. He wanted to protect us both, I think, me and Tam, but he couldn’t be in two places at once.

I smiled up at him. “Daddy, go see Tam. I’m okay.”

I think my words were a little slurred from the drugs that were in my system and whatever the sedative was that June had just injected me with. Disbelief showed in my father’s eyes. “Kirin, I can’t just leave you here alone.”

“Go, daddy! June’s here!” I glared at her. She might have jabbed me with a needle when I wasn’t looking, but I didn’t think she would let anything really bad happen to me.

He finally sighed and kissed my forehead before running out of the building. He’d either have to catch a cab or run to the other center, and I’ve never found out which one he did. The sedative started to pull at my mind, dragging me down into sleep.

I wasn’t angry with June for putting me to sleep or angry with dad for telling her that I was a bender. More than anything, I was elated that Tam was safe. At the time, I thought that meant there was a chance my mother would be alright. I didn’t quite understand how hospitals worked. I thought there was a separate center for adults.  


***

I feel like it’s important to clarify that, if it wasn’t already obvious, my father didn’t always hate benders. That was something that grew on him gradually, a darkness creeping at the back of his mind. A poison taking over his blood. It ate away at him, little by little. He hated the inequality they created. He lost his wife to benders misusing their power, but his daughter was saved by them, the daughter who was one of them.

Before the accident, he wouldn’t stop talking about how cool my firebending was. He’d make loving jokes about if the power went out, I could power the generator myself. Wouldn’t we be the envy of the neighborhood, he’d say, I was a personal generator. Mother would tell him not to encourage me to do anything before I was ready. She didn’t want me trying to generate lightning and burning the house down.

As if I needed any encouragement to be overeager.

His hatred never combined me with “Them”. I wasn’t a bender in his eyes. I was something outside of the two groups, something all my own. I wasn’t one of the monsters who killed my mother--at least, not to him. He was indebted to Mrs. Yee, the healer who brought me back from near-death (my rib injuries were more serious than June had led us to believe and there was internal damage she hadn’t been able to find in the ambulance), becoming my life-long physician, but Mrs. Yee was still one of Them.

He would have probably put healers in the same category as me if it hadn’t been for Tam. For all the good that was done for me, there was bad done for Tam. His injuries were far more severe. My body had had six years to prepare for the accident; his only had six months.

From the way his legs were braced against me, something shattered. I don’t know what they called it, and I don’t think I’ll ever find out. He was paralyzed from the waist down. They couldn’t fix that, but he was alive.

Mrs. Yee and even June told me, time and time again, that it wasn’t my fault. If I hadn’t been holding him, he would have gone tumbling through the car, and he would have died. Either his legs or his life had to go.

We tried to go on as normally as we could after the accident. My father was fired. Getting me to and from school and taking care of Tam was hard enough. Where mom got maternity leave, dad didn’t get that luxury. I offered to quit school when I was seven, but that wasn’t exactly well-received. Dad kept trying to juggle everything, but our landlord was only so lenient about rent. I started taking odd jobs after school that dad didn’t have to know about and maybe I stole a wallet or twelve. Things were a constant battle between money and taking care of Tam. This was when, I think, my father’s hatred of benders grew. In his eyes, they were the reason we were in this situation. There was so little love in him anymore.  


***

When dad became an Equalist, I was nine and Tam was three. I remember the exact day he told me; it was the celebration for the end of the Hundred Years’ War. I didn’t have the chance to celebrate all that much. I had to look after Tam, clean the apartment, cook the food my friend’s parents had given directly to me to bypass my father’s pride, and try to figure out where on earth my father was. Whenever he went out looking for jobs, he would always leave me a note to tell me where he was going. There was no note left that day.

I could hear the parade coming as soon as it turned down our block. I pushed Tam, already in a wheelchair, over to the window so that he could watch. I had to stand on my tiptoes. The fire dancers were in the middle of the parade, and I had to smile. When I was much younger, before I had to worry about the weight of the world, I would always tell dad that I wanted to be a fire dancer in the parades when I grew up. He’d smile and laugh and tell me that of course it was a reasonable and stable job choice.

“Kirin?” He called, opening the front door. His voice was lighter than I’d heard it in a long time. “Honey, I need to talk to you--oh, there you are.”

I turned to him and planted my hands on his hips. I wasn’t happy that he’d run off without telling me where he was going, and I was going to make sure he knew it. “Where have you been?”

He completely ignored me, looking around until he saw Tam. “Min! Can you come and play with Tam for a few minutes?”

I forgot to be mad at him. Min was our downstairs neighbor, a year ahead of me in school. We’d been friends ever since we moved in here, shortly after his father was killed by a firebender. As deep in Triad territory as we lived, it was more common than not to find single parents and orphans. His mom and my dad worked together to try and give him, me, and Tam some semblance of a normal life.

Min came jogging in, all eleven year old energy. he waved at me, brown eyes warm, black hair curling around his ears, and wheeled Tam into the “living room”, closing the door behind him.

Dad and I sat down at the table. I folded my hands in front of me, trying to look like a grown-up and like I was prepared for anything he could say.

“I think I’ve figured out what we’re going to do,” He began. “Yuki--uh, I mean, Min’s mother, and I have been talking about this for a while. She’s managed to convince me. Before you ask, yes, you and Min will still have to go to school.”

“How much does this pay?” I arched my eyebrows like I’d always seen the adults do. Despite having too-long black bangs, it still worked. Dad laughed a little.

“It doesn’t pay,” He said quickly, before plowing on so that I couldn’t ask any questions. “But we’d be completely taken care of. I could still look for another job, but this would be a safe place for you and Tam to grow up in, without the...danger of the city.”

Danger. He meant the Triads, benders, any of Them who weren’t me.

When I didn’t say anything, dad pushed straight on, stars in his eyes. “It’s an anti-bending group. It’s small right now, just getting on its feet, but the leader...you’d love him, Kirin. He’s amazing. A real visionary.” He leaned across the table, motioning for me to do the same as he lowered his voice. “You can’t tell anyone this, alright? Yuki told me, but she apparently wasn’t supposed to. He’s got some kind of spirit power. He can take people’s bending away.”

I jumped out of my chair and walked back over to the counter, praying I didn’t look as terrified as I felt. I grabbed two pieces of bread out of the bag and stood over the garbage can, slowly starting to burn the bread. I’d had to quit taking firebending classes when we ran out of the money to send me to them. This was what my teacher had told me to do, so that I didn’t accidentally hurt someone when I got upset.

The first piece began to crumble in my hands. “You want to take me where people hate me? I could lose everythi--it. I could lose my bending.”

Despite what he thought, my bending was everything to me back then. It was who I was. No one in our new neighborhood knew (not even Min), but it was how I defined myself. I was one of Them. I was the enemy. I couldn’t lose that.

Min thought I was normal, like dad and Tam, like mom used to be. I never talked about my bending. Not to Tam, who was too little to understand, or to dad, who claimed he loved me anyway. Everywhere I went, it was the elephant in the room.

“You don’t have to go,” Dad’s voice was too calm. I still didn’t dare look at him. “You could stay here. I’d come back at night.”

“But you’d still take Tam with you, wouldn’t you?” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, just enough to see him nod. That was low. He knew that everywhere Tam went, I went. I tried (not very hard) to keep the resentment out of my voice. “Then I guess you know I’m going, too.”

“Kirin, I am not asking for your permission to do this. I am your father,” He ordered. His voice shook, and I finally turned to look at him, the half-burnt second piece of bread still in my hand.

His face wasn’t as aged then, had fewer lines and scars, but it was just as expressive. His eyes were cold and closed off, locked on the destruction I’d created. Subtle traces of fear defined the thin lines under his eyes and around his mouth. He was twice my height, always ready to ruffle my hair or take me for ice cream when I fought a bully at school. He was my father--he was fearless.

He was afraid of me.

I tucked the bread behind my back, dropping it in the garbage can. My throat ran dry. I just nodded in response to a question he hadn’t asked. I agreed to go with him. I think seeing him so afraid of me changed something inside me. I wanted to go with him, to meet this strange visionary he was so taken with, to travel there as one of Them. I wanted to be found out for what I was. I wanted to lose my bending. That way, I couldn’t be responsible for mom’s death. That way, I couldn’t scare my father. We could be normal again.

I wish I had known then, in my idealistic nine year old brain, what I know now. Normal wasn’t an option for us anymore. I wish I’d known the truth about the amazing visionary my father had raved about. I wish I had known that my father, beneath his pretense of love and happiness for me, was a bitter man, only driven by revenge. But I suppose I hadn’t even known what revenge was at the time. I went along with everything he said.


	2. Equalist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirin's first and most memorable experiences after joining the Equalist movement.
> 
> (Fic will update every Tuesday.)

I met Amon shortly thereafter. Dad told me that he was interested in meeting all the children, so that they wouldn’t be afraid of him. The truth was a bit different. He wanted to meet us, sure, maybe, but dad was really the one who engineered the meeting. I think he wanted me to know who I was loyal to, or where I could go if I ever wanted to get rid of my “problem”.  


We’ve had access to the underground as long as I can remember, and we’ve always used it to our full advantage. On the walk to the nearest entrance, dad told me that it was built to be a bomb shelter for another war. A precaution, so that the civilians could be safe. Except Republic City was the safest place to be. We took over the shelters and the tunnels. People forgot about it and bigger issues came up.  


Dad parked Tam’s car off to the side of the entrance beneath the bridge. He pulled my favorite hair band out from his pocket and used it to push my bangs back, looking straight into my eyes.  


“Remember, Kirin, don’t mention the ‘special thing’ you can do,” He insisted for the hundredth time that day. I was too nervous to even think about bending.  


I nodded anyway. I knew to hide it, even without his prompting. Dad was a complex mind. He didn’t want me to get hurt, no matter how much he wished I was normal. He loved me the way I was. He always did, I think. Or maybe he was just hopeful that if he didn’t push me, I would come around to having my bending taken away in my own time.  


He took my hand and open the tunnel, pushing Tam with his free hand. I had brought my favorite doll with me for comfort. I clutched her tight to my chest as we went down the ramp; I hated being underground. I still do.  


I didn’t know much about Amon, other than he was a mysterious man my father put blind faith into, but I knew he had to be nice, even if he could take away bending. I convinced myself that he didn’t want the power. He’d been chosen, like an Avatar. Amon had to be nice, I thought. My father wouldn’t be involved with bad people.  


Seven years later, I have to laugh when I think about that. My father was bad people.  


Dad led us along, head held high. Green-clad figures lined the hall, talking in small clusters, only sparing us a passing glance. I clung tighter to dad’s pant’s leg. For what he called a fledgling group, there were a shocking number of people. Even though they didn’t have masks on, there was something anonymous about all of them, faces that could blend into crowds. They didn’t stand out. They didn’t look like the moustache-twirling villains or the cape-clad henchmen in my storybooks. I told myself Amon couldn’t look like them, not to be a leader. I knew what good leaders had to be. They were handsome, charming, kind, non-violent--non-violence was my mother’s soapbox.  


We stopped at one of the metal doors, and I saw dad take a deep breath. He gave me a worried look out of the corner of his eye, clearly wanting to warn me or reassure me one more time, but he couldn’t risk it with so many people around. Instead, he opened the door and gently pushed me in first.  


When I saw Amon, I forgot everything I was supposed to say. Dad had trained me, drilled sentences into my brain, given me a script to work with so that there was no way I could mess up. Except that I forgot it all. Amon scared me more than anything, more than any nightmare or any other Equalist--for a brief moment, he scared me more than the accident.  


He was dressed in his full outfit, regardless of the heat within the tunnels. Black gloves, black long coat, black boots...and that mask. Expressionless and cold, carved similarly enough to a human face to feature in my nightmares for weeks. I couldn’t see his eyes. I wondered if he even had a face. I grew accustomed to the look as I grew up, at least enough so that I no longer dreamed about the mask chasing me through the tunnels, but it never stopped being frightening.  


“Amon,” Dad said, squeezing my shoulder. Only a few seconds had passed, but my mind argued they were hours. “This is my daughter Kirin, and my son Tam. Kirin, wasn’t there something you wanted to say?”  


That was my cue to say whatever he had taught me, to praise Amon or talk about the weather or how excited I was to join the revolution or anything (really, anything) besides what I blurted out. “Why do you hate benders? And why do you wear such a creepy mask? Do you have a face? Daddy told me about face-stealers. How do you breathe without a face?”  


Dad flinched, his fingers curling in tight around my shoulder. I knew that wasn’t how things were supposed to go, but it wasn’t as if I could have taken the words out of the air.  


Amon laughed. It’s still the scariest thing I’ve heard in my life. He knelt down to be on eye level with me. I could see a glint of blue beyond the eye holes. That, at least, reassured me that he did have (at the very least) eyes. I clung to that, assuming that meant he had to have a face as well.  


“Well, you’re a curious little girl, aren’t you?” He asked. His eyes flickered up to my father for a moment, before settling back on me. “Do you really want to know?”  


I looked up at dad, unsure of what the right answer was. He stared straight ahead at the far wall, offering no guidance. He refused to look at either me or Amon. I made up my own mind and nodded. I wished I hadn’t almost instantly. Amon took his mask off.  


From the way dad tensed up, I knew this was bad. This was something that didn’t happen. I realized why immediately; the fresh pink scars and curled lip made me recoil in fear. I wish I’d known then that years later, my own hands would have met a similar fate from my stupidity. Then, perhaps, I wouldn’t have let him know that I was afraid of him.  


“How-how’d you get that?” I asked. I knew I needed to fix the situation somehow. That was my bright idea, to keep asking questions and keep pushing.  


“A firebender did it to me,” Amon began. He watched my face carefully. “I grew up on a farm. This firebender extorted my family--do you know what that word means, Kirin? Extorted? Come now, you’re a smart girl. No? Alright. It means he forced my parents to pay him. When my father confronted him, he killed my family and left me with this.”  


Looking back, I really could have kicked myself. I’d believed every word he’d said. I was such a dumb kid. A firebender killed my mother. Amon was so frightening, so much larger than I was, that I wanted to relate to him with every fiber of my being. I wanted to make him seem human. So I hung on his every word.  


I didn’t say anything right away. I didn’t know what to say. I was a firebender myself, carrying the weight of my mother’s death on my shoulders as if I were the one who flipped the car. I didn’t want the guilt of Amon’s family as well. But somewhere in that idiotic little brain of mine, I had convinced myself that not all benders were bad. One bad seed didn’t damn the rest. My mother had taught me that.  


I suppose something showed in my face, or my silence betrayed me. Amon’s next question was chosen carefully. “You don’t _like_ firebenders, do you, Kirin?”  


Even then, I could recognize a baited question. He wanted me to answer. My stomach twisted itself into knots as I realized he knew what I was.  


I started to answer, but dad cut me off. “She saw fire dancers on the street. She’s young.”  


It was as if that explained everything, breaking the tension that had built in the room, breaking the spell of Amon’s that I was under. I was a child, they agreed, a child who didn’t understand life or know better than to ask personal questions of a complete stranger or be misled by a pretty demonstration in a parade.  


Apparently, it really was a good enough explanation for Amon at the time. He stood back up and turned away in a dismissal so abrupt that even I recognized it.  


Dad kept a firm hand on my shoulder through the compound, guiding me back to our new home. For the first few years, he, Tam, and I shared a room down in the complex. It was small and cramped and Tam and I had to share a bunk bed, but it was a home. Dad looked for jobs that would pay most days while I was at school. Tam stayed in the compound. I never found out what he did.  


It was that night when I realized something was missing. Dad spent the entire day showing me around the complex, making sure I knew which doors led where and which doors were Amon’s and which were rooms and which were locked and which led to the surface and which--  


I crawled into the bottom bunk. Tam was still young enough that I had to sleep in the bed with him to keep him safe. It was nice to me as well, to have him there, solid against me. I love him.  


When I went to grab my doll, it wasn’t there. Panic swells up in my stomach and I jump out of bed, clambering over Tam. Dad isn’t in the room yet. I didn’t know where he was. I didn’t really mind that he wasn’t there; he’d be angry with me for sneaking out like this. Tam was sleeping soundly, bundled up in the covers, oblivious to everything.  


I picked my way out of the room and down the hallway, creeping along the wall as if I was a spy. I think that’s what I pretended. The only place I could have left my doll was in Amon’s office, and I wasn’t ready to face him again. If I had to face him, though, I wanted to do it alone. That way I could say whatever I wanted without disappointing my father.  


His office door was locked when I got to it, though, which was a major hitch in my plan. At that point in my life, I didn’t quite have a mastery of lock-picking. I didn’t want to knock and ask to be let in, just in case he wasn’t there and someone else heard me.  


I tried the door handle several times, hoping that eventually it would unlock on its own. When that proved useless, I stuck the end of my hairband into the keyhole, twisting and turning. This wasn’t something you could learn on the radio shows. The tip of my haIrband broke off into the keyhole, and I stepped back with a gasp. That one was my favorite. I got attached to stupid things when I was a kid, so with tears in my eyes, I pulled the rest of my hairband back out of the lock and tried the handle again. Against most of the laws of common sense, it opened. I crept inside.  


My doll wasn’t waiting on me in the floor like I’d anticipated. I told myself that he had just put it somewhere else for safekeeping--he was probably planning on giving it back to me the next day. But he didn’t understand that I couldn’t sleep without it. Surely he’d understand me going through his things. He was a nice man. I just kept telling myself that in the hopes that, eventually, it would be true.  


His desk drawers were unlocked and I immediately went through those. There were sketched blueprints, written speeches (that I skimmed--most of the words were crossed out and scribbled over anyway), and tiny models of things I didn’t understand. One was a set of sticks attached to a backpack of sorts. It became common place the older I got, with the Lieutenant not hesitating to hit trainees with an uncharged kali stick, but at the time I didn’t believe it could ever be a backpack.  


My doll wasn’t in any of the drawers, although I did find a very interesting cache of make-up. I thought that perhaps Amon had a wife, and that it was hers’. Some part of my mind told me that I knew it wasn’t true, that the make-up was the same color as his scar, that the prosthetic mold could easily be made to create his pulled lip, but I was a child, and I didn’t believe he could lie like that.  


The door to the office started to turn and I dove under the empty space of the desk. There was a wall protecting me from view, but if the person sat down in the desk chair, they’d know I was there for sure. The door clicked shut behind them. I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to muffle my breathing, as the heavy footsteps got closer and closer. They were wearing boots for certain.  


“You can come out now, Kirin. I know you’re there.” Amon’s voice was different. Not the leader’s voice anymore, not the weighted question, not trying to win anyone over.  


I crawled out from under the desk to peek over at him. If I hadn’t heard him speak, I wouldn’t have recognized him. Gone was the mask, gone was the coat and gloves, gone was the burned face. Gone was everything that made him the Amon I’d met earlier.  


“A-Amon!” I squeaked out. He was dressed comfortably, in what could have passed for a pair of pajamas, with wet hair. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--to be in here, I was just--I left my doll and-and I--I’m sorry!”  


I started to try and run past him, to go straight back to my room and tell my father what I’d seen, that Amon wasn’t really scarred and who knew what else wasn’t true, but Amon blocked my path. He seemed larger than life, even when he knelt down again to be on eye level.  


He smiled. “You understand, of course, that there’s a _reason_ for a curfew here.”  


“Y-yes sir, of course, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to--I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I understand!” There were tears in my eyes and in my voice. I thought for certain he would take my bending away right then and there.  


“You can go with a warning tonight, but _do not_ wander the compound at night. Now, what was this about a doll?” He took his hands out from behind his back, revealing my lost doll. “Is this yours? I found it on the floor.”  


I reached out to take it from him, nodding silently. He let it drop into my hands. I held it tight to my chest, as if it could somehow protect me. “C-can I go now, sir?”  


“Of course,” He stood back up, looming over me. “But it would be wise to not tell anyone about this little meeting. Not even your father.”  


I squeaked, but nodded anyway. Amon was the type of person you couldn’t refuse, not when he was like this. Not when you knew what he could do.  


As I passed him on my way out the door, he ruffled my hair like my father always did, but there was no love in the gesture, no protective instinct. If anything, it was a threat. “I’d look after that doll if I were you, Kirin. It would be a shame if you lost something so important to you.”  


I ran all the way back to the room.  


***

I never told anyone what I saw that day. My father, I think, suspected something had happened. Every time he mentioned Amon, I would shrink a little, trying to make myself very small. We would pass him in the hallway some days. I’d press as close to the wall as I could, but I could still feel his eyes on me. He knew I would never tell, but he wanted to make sure.  


Min and I did still have to go to school in town, which was a welcome break to me. I don’t know who appointed Min to be in charge of taking care of me. Every day after school, he waited for me to come out, as his classes ended before mine and I still went to club meetings. We would walk together in silence to the nearest tunnel entrance and head down. He knew the tunnels like the back of his hand, far better than I’ve ever known them, and I’ll readily admit I would have gotten lost without him. I still always felt a little like a prisoner.  


We usually sat in one of the storage rooms to do our homework, but one day he took me to a training room. Men and women stood on matted floors, sparring in pairs, moving quicker than I had thought would be humanly possible. They were each trying to land the first blow on the other, although the practice fight continued until one was on the ground and completely immobile. It was overwhelming, terrifying, and fascinating all at once. I looked over at Min.  


“Chi-blocking,” He shrugged. “Your dad said you’re old enough to start learning, but I still think you’re kinda...small.”  


He started to say more, but he never got the chance; at that moment, a girl about my age and size managed to cartwheel her way over to us.  


“You must be the new girl!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms around me in a hug. Her brown hair was pulled back into a short, thin braid, although a few strands had gotten loose to frame her round face. She had brown eyes, much like Min’s, much like most non-benders I’d met, not including Tam. Tam had inherited our father’s blue. No one much seemed to notice mine being the strange gold so associated with firebenders, but dad probably would have lied about it anyway, said that I took after my mother.  


“I-I guess I am?” I stammered out, looking up at Min, unsure of the right answer. He nodded.  


“Kalea! There you are!” Another boy, close to Min’s age, ran up, only making matters worse. He grabbed the girl--Kalea--by her shoulders and pried her off of me. “Sorry, I’d put her on a leash, but apparently that’s animal cruelty. Hi, I’m Lee, and yes, I know you’ve met eighteen million other Lees.”  


I had to laugh just because it was true. There were hundreds of Lees in the city, and five in my grade alone. You would think that as popular as it is, people would stop naming their children it.  


“Lemme go, I wanna talk to the new girl!” Kalea broke away, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, as if it were impossible for her to stand still. She spoke faster than my brain could really follow. “Hi! I’m Kalea, I guess you know that, and you’re Kirin! Will you be my partner? I haven’t officially started training yet, but my grandma’s been showing me a little bit, and--”  


Lee put one hand on top of her head to hold her down and covered her mouth with the other.  


“Min and I usually work together, but I’ll forgive you if you want to take him today. Somehow this one--” Lee looked down at Kalea. “Got sugar for breakfast, and I’d feel really bad if I stuck you with her on your very first day.”  


I shook my head, smiling. There was something about Kalea that I just couldn’t say no to; she was familiar, friendly, a ray of sunshine in a generally dark place. Maybe that’s cliche.  


She squealed and grabbed my wrist, dragging me away from the boys and out to an empty practice mat.  


“Okay, look! Chi-blocking is actually really simple no matter what it looks like!” Kalea chirped. She was still rocking back and forth. I decided then that it was impossible for her to hold still. I glanced away at one of the other pairs.  


“That doesn’t look very simple,” I sighed, staring. It sure looked fun, even if it wasn’t easy.  


Kalea threw her hands up. “You see? That’s why I said it’s simple no matter what it looks like! Okay, the whole point is to hit the other person before they hit you. That’s all there is to it. Sound like you can do it?”  


“Um…” I never got to finish asking her for help or a better explanation. Kalea immediately set in on me, landing hits almost faster than I can blink, and far faster than I could even try to counter. I crumbled to the floor, mostly numb. Min stood off to the side, shaking his head like he knew bringing me here was a mistake. Lee was laughing as if Kalea putting me on the ground was the funniest thing he’d seen. I suppose it was, in a way. Kalea was a more than capable fighter, even then, but she was so energetic and upbeat it was strange to see her attack.  


“Whoa, you’re…” Kalea breathed, staring down at me. Her eyes were wide with shock. My heart leapt into my throat and I couldn’t find any words to explain as I descended into panic--she knew what I was, I was convinced, she’d found out just from chi-blocking me.  


I floundered for words like a flying fish, trying to come up with an excuse. Kalea beat me to it.  


“You’re really bad at this!” She giggled, holding a hand down to help me up. My heart returned to normal; she didn’t know. I let her pull me up to my feet. “Come on, we’ve got LOTS of work to do! Don’t worry, the feeling will come back in a little bit. I just kind of…pretend chi-blocked you! That was nothing compared to the real thing. Come on, come on, let’s go! I wanna go again!”  


We spent the rest of the day alternating between practicing with each other and watching the boys. They got into real, rough and tumble fights over “rule breaking”. We would each cheer on one of them. Standing there, switching between cheering for Lee and Min, something inside my head clicked. I thought that maybe, if the four of us just stuck together, being an Equalist wouldn’t be so bad after all. That was the moment--a split second--when my new life began.


	3. Start Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have changed in seven years, and the Avatar's arrival only causes more problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow remember when I said there were going to be weekly updates  
> I'm now two seasons late to the posting and this is just embarrassing.  
> Hopefully, since it's summer, I can be more regular with my revisions and postings!

“Hey, do you ever wonder what they’re going to put on your gravestone?”  
Lee doesn’t even look over at me. He just hands me the binoculars. We’ve been watching this ship ever since it came into view. Amon’s been saying that the Avatar’s due in town any day now, and this ship’s coming from the Southern Tribe.  
“What, you mean like what I’m going to do with my life?” He asks, sitting down on the edge of the platform. “Like--save lives or something?”  
“Hey, what’s that look like to you?” I point at two figures on the deck of the ship. “But no, I mean what your grave is going to say. Like ‘mother’, ‘friend’, ‘enemy of the state’.”  
Lee looks down at me now, mouth open. “Okay, what kind of question is that? And hand me the binoculars. I just see the outline of the boat. I don’t know, what do you think they’ll put on yours?”  
I hold the binoculars out, thinking. “I don’t know. Probably won’t have my name on it. It’ll probably just say ‘Equalist’.”  
My voice gets dark, no matter how hard I try to avoid it. This is something I think about a lot. I guess when your job consists of dangerous stunts in thin jumpsuits, where one misstep could kill you, it’s a valid concern.  
“Kirin…” Lee puts the binoculars down. We’ve moved completely past the pretense of working. He twists to look over at me. “You know, it doesn’t have to say that.”  
“Yeah, it does. I don’t want to talk about--look, that looked like a polar bear dog, right?” I know I invited this conversation, but if I can avoid it, I will. I pull myself up to my feet.  
He lightly grabs my wrist. “Listen. I know--don’t say anything--I know you don’t want to talk about this, but just listen to me. I’m not going anywhere, and the offer still stands.”  
He reaches forward, brushing a chunk of hair out of my face. I sigh. Lee and I pretend to be a couple so often (usually so we can get out of the compound to date whoever we want from town) that it’s first nature to act like this.  
“Alright, so I go with you. We run away and get an apartment in the city. We stop being Equalists. Then what?” I cross my arms. “We take Tam and we sit and wait for Amon to find us? What do we do then?”  
Lee smiles, probably thinking he’s being funny or cute or whatever he’s passing himself off as these days. “We’ll die together, as citizens, not as Equalists. We put our faith in the Avatar, Kir.”  
“Lee, that’s-that’s treason! You can’t say--” But he’s still smiling, even as I fumble for words to remind him that he can’t say things like that, Min’s downstairs, and spirits help us if Min hears any of this. He’s still smiling, and I realize that he’s completely serious, for once in his life. I shake my head, turning back to the trap door. “I’m going inside. Stay up here as long as you want.”  
I forego the ladder in favor of a more dramatic entrance, dropping straight down to the second floor landing of the warehouse. It’s on the docks but no one uses it any more. There’s a tunnel beneath it, giving us easy access. But, of course, four teenagers caught hanging out in an old warehouse is less likely to cause a full-scale investigation than four adults--or at least I’m guessing that’s what the Lieutenant was thinking when he gave us our orders. Either that, or he just wanted us out of the compound. He and Amon have taken to sending me and Lee out when they’re having important meetings. You get caught eavesdropping once, and they never trust you again.  
Although to be fair, I’d still rather take pointless missions over losing my bending.  
Kalea’s lying on the ground, wrapped up in a nest of jackets, pretending to be asleep. Min sits against a crate with a book in his lap. He glances up at me.  
“I’m tired. Can you take the rest of my shift?” I fake a yawn. From the look on Min’s face, he knows I’m pretending, but he tosses me the book and climbs the ladder anyway. Funny, then, that he can tell when I’m faking, but not when Kal is.  
She cracks her eyes open as the trap door shuts. Once we’re certain we’re clear, she throws the top jacket off and sits up, stretching. “I was getting all stiff waiting for you to come back down!”  
We all grew up fast, sure. Min probably the fastest of all. But Kal...in a way, Kal never changed. She got older. Her face stayed round, her body filled out to match (wide hips and excess weight, soft curves and full lips), and she grew maybe two inches taller. We all still towered over her. But her voice stayed a little girl’s, her eyes were still filled with light--fire, even, and she was still my best friend. Maybe my only friend, truth be told. Lee was great but he questioned every choice I made. Min only knew the half of me I showed the rest of the Equalists. Kal knew everything and questioned nothing.  
“Maybe you should’ve actually gone to sleep, then,” I tease, digging in the bag to toss her a juice bag and a protein snack.  
“Then I couldn’t have asked you what Lee did to upset you.” She’s young and childish, but she isn’t stupid. Her bright eyes bore into me as she stabs her juice box with the straw.  
I just shrug. “It’s nothing. Really.”  
She keeps staring for a long moment, before her eyes flick up to the trapdoor. I nod. I’d tell her if I could, but we can’t risk Min knowing anything. She finishes her snack and lays back down, this time to actually sleep, leaving me to scrounge for a spare jacket to use as a blanket. I don’t think we were supposed to be out all night. Won’t be the first time we’ve disobeyed an order. Besides, if the hunch I have about this boat is right, everyone will be too busy to yell at us. Well, except my dad. Somehow, he always finds the time.  


***

  
I still have nightmares about the accident. Yuki, Min’s mom-turned-compound doctor, tried to mix up some kind of drug to help me sleep without the dreams. It doesn’t work. All it did was make me more tired, and make me sleep way too late, and then dad just got angry and sent me off to scrub the floors when I should have been in the training room.  
I didn’t tell her what the dreams really are. As far as she knows (as far as anyone knows, really), I just relive the wreck, over and over again, every time I sleep. And, in a way, I guess that’s true. But they think that I dream I’m in the wreckage. The truth of it is, the little girl’s face pressed against the window is mine.  
The bender throwing the fireball is me, as well. But this time, the family isn’t just collateral damage. It’s my target.  


***

  
Min wakes me up in the morning and gets a fist to the gut for his trouble. He grumbles and complains when Kal pulls the jacket-blanket off me and gets away unscathed. Lee chows down on a snack bar and passes the bag around to the rest of us. We rub the sleep out of our eyes, slip our gloves on, and sneak out through a loose piece of metal siding and out onto the docks.  
A few of the workers give us funny looks as we weave our way through the crowd and towards the road back to our city. but most of them let us pass without question. Times aren’t great and a couple of kids in ratty clothes spending the night in a run-down warehouse is nothing new. That’s why Amon gives us beat patrols so often, I think; we blend in with the homeless and confused, the runaways and the street vendors. We blend in better than he or my father could, if either one of them deigned to leave the compound. It’s either that, or he just doesn’t like having me around more than is absolutely necessary. Or both. Probably both.  
Sometimes it frustrates me (and Kal more, considering the hero-worship crush she has on Amon) that he doesn’t trust me more. I’ve kept the secret for almost seven years. If I was going to out him as a fake, I guess I’d have done it by now. Then again, this is the man who’s been designing to systematically destroy benders for over ten years. Maybe he thinks I have that kind of patience. Or maybe he thinks I’m that stupid.  
Maybe I hate my bending, sure. Hate what it makes me and hate that I have it and hate myself for the times I can’t control it. But if I lose it, I lose myself. I lose the self-loathing and the rage and my identity. Whether I hate it or not, I am a bender, and if I lose that...I’m no one. I’m not even an Equalist. So maybe I’m stupid and maybe I’m brash, but I’m not about to lose myself for anyone.  
“Kirin!” Min hooks his arm around my waist and jerks me back, out of the way of the speeding satomobile. “You’re usually more careful than that.”  
“And you’re usually not this touchy-feely,” I snap back. For a minute I’m scared I’ve gone too far--this is how our conversations usually go, we argue and we snap and we yell and we beat each other up, but it’s still possible to go too far, especially this early in the morning.  
He finally rolls his eyes and shrugs. “Fine. Get hit next time, see if I care. But we’re going the other way.”  
I slink along at the back of the group with Min. Lee and Kal lead, Kal absently window shopping and Lee keeping his eyes on her and the streets. We pass a publicity guy preaching from a box in the park and we hurry by a little faster. He’s loud and obnoxious and we all hate him, but he’s faceless (according to Amon), and not actively involved in anything revolution-related, other than handing out the flyers. He’s what we need. Doesn’t make him any easier to put up with.  
We stop for lunch (or maybe breakfast? None of us are sure) at one of the street vendors and lean against the wall behind the cart, running off a few of the pickpocket urchins.  
“Kir, what do you think?” Lee snaps his fingers in front of my face. “Who’s going to win tonight?”  
I stare at him blankly for a minute. Are we having a rally tonight? Who are we going after? The Revelation rally isn’t this week, is it? Or are my dates off?  
“They’re talking about the match.” Min clarifies for me, even helpfully pointing to the arena. Like he doesn’t know that the three of us sneak out through the tunnels to see some of the matches. Min doesn’t go. Fundamentally against his beliefs, even if we try to phrase it as “an opportunity to see benders beat each other up”.  
I shrug. I don’t remember who’s playing tonight. “I don’t know, probably the cheating assholes.”  
Even Kal groans at that. “Don’t remind me. I keep hoping we’re going to get a decent ref one day, but it loo--”  
She cuts off (we all do) at a crash down the street. Lee groans, and I hold out my hand. He slaps a wad of low-mark yuans into my palm. Min just kind of glares at us; maybe betting on the ships isn’t a good idea, but this is all the money I’ve lost since we started taking watch duty, and it’s worth it to me. The boat we’d been watching last night was an all or nothing; either Lee gave me all my money back, or I gave him double what I’d already lost. I had a good feeling about it, but I’ve had good feelings before. It’s a relief to know that even I can be right sometimes.  
The girl barrels down the street, still in her Water Tribe get-up. It’s not hard to see that she doesn’t belong here, although the massive animal dragging her along makes it especially obvious. Min swears very quietly. I can’t blame him; I’m technically the squad leader, which means I should be the one making reports, but he usually winds up doing it. And this is going to land him one of the longest meetings of his life.  
She and the animal come to an abrupt stop beside (or, rather, in) the food cart.The animal’s already eating, even as she stammers to try and figure out how to pay. In the end, they turn away, heading back down the street. We don’t follow. We hang around long enough to pay for the damages (my winnings and everything that the others had on them--two weeks’ savings), pick the cart up, pop the wheel back on, and promise to come back with some replacement meat later. We won’t, of course, but the promises sound good.  
“So she stole.” I state the obvious on our way to one of the old shelters. No one lives there anymore, except maybe a squatter or two, but they don’t come prying and we don’t bother them. They don’t question where we come from or where we go. They aren’t home when we cut through today.  
Lee and Kal nod in agreement. Min gives me a sharp look, knowing that there’s something else coming. He plays along. “Yeah, and?”  
I shrug. He and I start pushing the ratty bed off of the tunnel entrance. There’s a sealed, industrial strength door, of course; we don’t just rely on a bed and luck. “You think they’ll arrest her?”  
Min scoffs, whacking me in the back of the head. I wince. Lee goes down the ladder first, flipping the light switch on at the bottom. Kal goes next, with Lee positioned to catch her if she falls.  
“Get your head out of your ass, Kirin,” Min remarks as I start down. “They’ll never arrest their Avatar.”  
I don’t argue with him. He’s right, of course. Not only is she a bender, she’s the bender. She’s their queen or goddess or whatever. There’s no way she’ll ever get into any trouble. Until we make some trouble, of course.  
The bare bulbs are the only light down here after Min seals the trap door above us. We switch off the lights for the ladder, spending a terrifying moment in the darkness where the fire in my skin starts to itch, before Lee finds the switch for the next section and we can keep going. This tunnel is usually deserted, unless we’re down here for some reason. Our voices bounce off the concrete walls, down darkened twisting side passages, filling the place with ghosts of ourselves. It’s worse when we have to turn the section lights off and we can’t see each other. Any ghost could be the real me when the lights are off.  
“I’m just saying,” I finally continue, as we get closer to the main part of base. “They won’t arrest her for anything she does. Unless we…get her into trouble that they can’t ignore.”  
This time, it’s Lee who gives me the sharp look. “Kir, that’s dangerous. You might get into trouble, too.”  
I know what he means, of course. He isn’t worried that I’ll get arrested; I’ve been there and done that. We all have and dad just shows up to bail us out and it never goes on our records. We’ve got an arsenal of fake names and identities to use. Too bad we aren’t using them for anything good. Some days I’d give anything to be Alia Din and actually have a last name.  
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I grumble. “Because I’m the perfect model child anyway.”  
Lee grins, twisting open the steel door into the main compound. He ruffles my hair as I go past him. “Exactly. Can’t lose my best girl.”  
We go immediately towards the offices. We’ve already eaten, and we missed breakfast anyway. Kal’s parents run the cafeteria, so it’s not like we couldn’t get food if we wanted it. But we’ve got actual work to do today. Min’s got to make our report and I have to stand there and nod and absolutely not say the wrong thing. I’m not quite sure what the wrong thing would be, but we’ve found that it’s just generally best if I keep my mouth shut.  
Min leads the way to Amon’s office, which is different from the quarters I broke into (I still break into this office, though, but that’s a different matter). Amon separated his quarters from his office a few years ago; got locks that he thought I couldn’t pick. We pass Tam on the way. Ten years old, a mop of curly black hair spilling over his ears, our father’s ice blue eyes, and smart enough to mechanize his wheelchair. My baby brother. And, in a lot of ways, my son.  
He waves as we go past, and I stop to ruffle his hair. Not that it gets anymore messed up. I need to make him brush it. Min just kind of rolls his eyes. He loves Tam too (I think), but right now he’s in full-on big kid professional mode. I’m not even sure if I have a professional mode.  
Min catches my hand at the door, silently shaking his head. I scoff and cross my arms. Instead of simply letting ourselves in, like I always do, he knocks. The voices inside stop.  
Not half a minute later, the Lieutenant opens the door. I pointedly avoid his eyes. Kalea waves at him, like always, and I have to snatch her hand out of the air. Despite my (very obvious) avoidance of eye contact, he passes too close to me on his way out. I hold my breath and half expect a reprimand; I get off easy this time. He keeps going past us. I hear him greet Tam a little farther down the hall and I sigh. Kal takes her hand out of my grip and jokingly shakes it in the air as if I’ve crushed it. To Min, it probably looks like nothing more than Kal being her normal self, but I know what the signal means. My skin’s running hot again, the fire threatening to burst through.  
“Come in,” Amon calls, not giving me time to calm down. Lee and Kal slide a little closer to me and we squeeze through the doorway, all three of us together.  
Not much has changed in seven years. I guess Amon is partial to his friend-winning mask and solid black clothing, or at least when he’s on duty. Even when he’s not, he only ditches the mask, but the “scars” are still plastered on. I’ve got to give him credit, though; it’s damn good make up. It makes the scars on my hands tingle when I see it.  
Min starts the report and I hang to the back. Something doesn’t feel right. “We were watching the ships from the dock warehouse, as the Lieutenant ordered. Late last night, a ship that the manifest said was coming from the Southern Water Tribe caught our attention. There were two suspicious figures on the deck. It didn’t unload until mid-morning, presumably after we had resumed our beat patrol. When we stopped for lunch, we saw--”  
“The Avatar’s here!” Kal cuts him off, and we all turn to look at her. She blushes. “S-sorry, he was just taking so long to get around to it…”  
Lee rolls his eyes. “The Avatar’s here. She brought her pet, too--one of those...polarbear dog things. The really big ones. Could probably eat us in one bite. Those.”  
“And she stole from Yan on the corner by the park,” I finally join in. “We paid Yan back and fixed the cart, but there’s a lot of product missing. Min here promised we’d replace it.”  
There’s a flair of something--anger, maybe, or annoyance--from Amon as he pushes off of the desk. I realize suddenly what’s wrong here; the radio crackles quietly behind him.  
“You already knew,” I say. I’m just stating the obvious now.  
He nods. His eyes settle on Kal and I have to fight the urge to push her behind me. “Yes. As appreciative of your efforts as I am, Kirin’s father informed me earlier. It appears that she intends to stay.”  
Kal pipes up again, her voice shaking. He still hasn’t looked away from her. “Th-that’s good, right? We can go ahead with the plan…”  
That’s all it takes for his eyes to flick to me. I wince. I love Kal, but I’m suddenly not sure why I trust her with anything that involves keeping a secret from Amon. Like not letting him know that I know what the ultimate plan is. Not only was I eavesdropping (again), I was supposed to be out on patrol that night. Guilt, I guess, seizes my chest, making it hard to breathe. Painful, even. Which is weird. I don’t feel that guilty.  
“The rest of you are dismissed. Kirin, stay.” He finally looks away and I can breathe again.  
The others nod and shuffle out. I hear Kal whisper if she did anything wrong, but I don’t hear what Lee tells her; the door shuts too fast. I sigh and shift to stand at attention.  
“There’s a group in the prison. They started a fight with some of the police. Get them out, bring them here.” He motions me over to the desk, pulling out a stack of yuans. I take them hesitantly. “We’ll have to tell your father you were eavesdropping, of course. You’ll take kitchen duty for two weeks. There are changes coming, and I have more important jobs for you.”  
I catch the emphasis. Jobs for me and only me. We live in a state of false symbiosis; I don’t tell his secret, and I keep my bending. He sends me on missions that would be near impossible for a non-bender. We don’t talk about it. Neither of us acknowledge how I do the jobs. They just get done. I’m under no illusion that he needs me; I know I’m just as expendable as any other Equalist. I just happen to have a different set of skills. On the bright side, that usually means that my punishments are never anything more severe than kitchen duty or cleaning.  
I nod. “Of course. Am I dismissed?”  
He waves his hand and I have to force myself to walk, not run, out of the office. The others are waiting for me in the hall.  
Lee snickers, looking at the money. “You got paid for eavesdropping? should’ve ‘fessed up if I knew that.”  
“I wish. I got bail duty,” I roll my eyes. I hope my voice doesn’t sound as strained to them as it does to me. “And dad’s gotta know, so I wouldn’t confess yet if I were you. Look, I gotta get going if I’m going to post before closing.”  
“Hey, there’s a match tonight! Hurry back!” Lee cups his hands to shout at me down the hallway. I just sort of wave in response.  


***

  
The police station is surprisingly busy by the time I park my bike and head up the stairs. A few flashbulbs go off, almost right in my eyes, but I just raise a hand to block my face and keep going.  
“If it isn’t miss Din!” The detective behind the counter yells in greeting. I groan. “Which relative is it today?”  
I’m pretty sure they’ve realized by now that Alia Din isn’t my real name. If they haven’t, they’re as dumb as their mustaches. But the records for Alia Din are so meticulous and thorough that the only explanation I can come up with is that we have an ally in the city records office. Because of that, the police have their hands tied whenever I show up with an absurd amount of money and bail out an absurd amount of relatives, usually on a technicality. If there’s anything Amon made sure to teach me after he and dad yanked me out of school, it was the law.  
“Heard you got my cousins on assault. I got bail.” I slam some the money down. “And I want my change back.”  
He winces. “Ooh, miss Din, I’m afraid we’re not letting those cousins of yours out. See, they assaulted some of our boys.”  
I roll my and lay down the rest of the money, lowering my voice. “Then keep the change. Look, I gotta get ‘em. Family reunion. Mom’ll be so disappointed, y’know?”  
“I’ll ask the captain. Can’t let poor Mama Din down.” He takes the money and vanishes towards the back. I’m left to drum my fingers against the counter. The lights inside come on as the sun sets outside.  
There are fans set up throughout the building to try and keep the stifling summer air moving. They aren’t doing a very good job, but it’s still better than the standing heat of the tunnels. Anything’s better than the heat of the tunnels. All these years, and no one knows how to install a compound-wide fan system. On the worst days, you can smell the sweat from the training room from the opposite end of the section. Those are the days Lee and I go out for dates, if only to get some non-mildewed air.  
“Good news, miss Din,” The detective calls, returning with about five terrified new recruits in tow. “Looks like that family reunion has really touched the captain’s heart and we’re letting your cousins out on bail. They’ll still have to face the charges, but they’re good for now. Have a nice night.”  
The recruits bashfully follow me out of the station like baby ducks. I drive slow enough to keep pace with their walking back to the nearest tunnel entrance. Doubtless Amon will send my father or one of the other advisors back in the morning to get the charges dropped. Beifong would keep over if she knew we had some of her precious captains in Amon’s pocket.  
In the tunnel, I plant my hands on my hips and spin to face the recruits. “You all seem knew. Do you know who I am?”  
“Y-you’re the one that’s always with Amon,” One of the girls manages to stammer out. She looks more afraid here than she did at the station, especially with the way the lights hit the blossoming bruise on her cheek. I can already hear the spin in my head; police brutality against non-benders. It’ll get the charges dropped quick enough. “The guy...the-the one with the brown hair, he said you were...a-an enforcer. Amon’s enforcer.”  
I don’t know which guy with brown hair is telling people that, but I’ll have to thank him later for giving me that kind of a reputation, especially one outside of who my father is.  
“That’s right,” I hiss. A healthy dose of fear never killed a recruit. Besides, I’m a kitten compared to whatever Amon will do to them. “And Amon sent me to bail you out. You are to report to his office immediately. And! If I ever--and I mean ever--hear so much as a whisper that any one of you is going to risk our organization and disobey orders so flagrantly again, I will find you, and I will personally kick your ass into next week. Are we clear?”  
They all nod, shuffling by me, utterly defeated. We’ve been getting a lot of hot heads lately. At this rate, Amon will have to start sending someone other than me for bail duty. Can’t risk them looking too close into why Alia Din doesn’t go to school.  
“Amon’s enforcer.” I grin to myself, heading for the cafeteria. Lee, Kal, and I always eat dinner here before we go to the probending arena.  
It’s not a bad title. Sounds powerful and terrifies recruits. But most importantly, it’s a huge step up from what I used to be. 


	4. Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Certain preparations are crucial to making sure the first big event goes off without a hitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have no excuse for being another season late. I have nothing.

Days roll by and we only get busier. I never see any of the recruits I busted; I don’t know if they’re trying to avoid me, or if Amon decided they weren’t worth the trouble and turned them back over to the police, after a presumably terrifying lecture. It doesn’t matter either way. I’m too busy to follow up on any of my threats. Whoever gave me my new nickname probably has no idea how accurate it’s become--sometimes it starts to feel like I don’t breathe unless Amon orders it. Dad’s not happy about the amount of attention I’m getting. I can see it in the lines of his face and hear it in the strain of his voice on the nights that he eats with me and Tam and the others, when he asks what I’ve done that day and I can’t tell him because it’s classified. But I don’t think he really has much time to worry about me; Amon keeps him just as busy, although running in the opposite direction from me, presumably to avoid any conflict.

If anything, conflict comes from the others, once my nickname starts really circulating. Kal sighed and got stars in her eyes and told me how lucky I was. Lee pursed his lips in what I can only assume was dissatisfaction. Min stormed away from the table. Tam asked me four or five times if I was really okay with it. Lee and Kal are easy enough to placate; I take them with me on a few missions that involve going to the arena (with real tickets!) to watch the Avatar and her team in the matches and observe how she fights. They’re more than happy to be my partners. Min comes around in his own time, begrudgingly relinquishing leadership of the squad back to me, although there was a new wedge between us. Tam...I’m not sure if Tam will ever believe what I say. He’s smart like that. Smart enough to realize that I don’t wholly believe what I’m saying.

The Revelation has started consuming everyone’s time. It’s two days out now--one, if you don’t count what’s left of today. I’ve been in on the planning since it started, finding a location and making fliers and getting in with the Triads enough to know when they’ll be where. And I know there was no coincidence in Amon sending me to arrange the job that’ll lure them into the trap tonight. I know that he sent me to buy Zolt for a reason. By midnight tonight, he’ll be in the cells, in my reach. By midnight tomorrow, he won’t be able to kill anyone else like he did my mother.

I’m stretched out on the bed, flipping through one of the fashion magazines I nicked from a stand in town. Kal’s in the shower with the radio blasting. She’s still singing along when she comes out.

“Hey, can you heat my tea up for me?” She asks, pulling a shirt on. She freezes when she sees that I’m glaring. “Oh, c’mon. Just this once. Please?”

I sigh and throw the magazine at her. “Yeah, whatever. Where’s it?”

She waves at the desk. Nothing with Kal is ever “just this once”. This is probably the fourth time in three weeks she’s had me heat her tea back up when she leaves it laying somewhere and forgets it. Sometimes I get paranoid that she’s doing it on purpose, either to get me caught or to make me get better at bending, but then I remember that it’s just Kal. She couldn’t scheme her way out of a paper bag if she tried.

The tea boils over, burning my fingers. I shove it back towards her and she grins, now dressed. “I knew I loved you for a reason, KiKi.”

She’s the only one that I let get away with calling me that. She’s the one who started it and she knows full well that I won’t deck her. Sticking my tongue out, however, is fair play.

The door opens without warning and she jumps. The tea spills over me, soaking through my shirt and splattering my arms. I scream, more in surprise than pain, and the door slams fully open. We both turn to look at the Lieutenant.

“What happened?” He sighs, looking between us, as if it isn’t already obvious. “Do you need to go to the nurse?”

“No, sir, just need a change of clothes,” I reply. Kal hands me her towel and I start wiping my arms off. There aren’t any burns forming, thankfully. That would be hard (well, embarrassing) to explain to the guys.

“Well, change fast. The four of you are on tonight--getting the Triads. We’re leaving in an hour and the boys are already waiting in the garage.” The Lieutenant shifts back to attention, folding his arms behind his back. “We’re running an equipment check, so be there in fifteen or less. And...Kirin. Don’t forget your gloves.”  
He gives my bare hands a pointed look as he leaves.

“Yes, sir,” I grumble, shutting the door behind him. Kal and I sigh in unison and start stripping to change into our uniforms. She tosses my gloves to me from where I’ve left them beside the bed. I’m usually fairly compulsive about wearing them, except for in the privacy of my own room. Not many people would ask about my scars, but some might, and some might even ask the right questions. They’re made out of some kind of special insulating fiber or something that Amon designed for my dad, so he could fight without risking an injury to himself. Dad had Mr. Sato make a second pair in secret for me--didn’t tell him why, of course, but they got made. They’re a little ill-fitting now, but that’s not really important. All that matters is that they literally prevent me from bending (at least with my hands), which isn’t a huge risk anyway, but dad’s not going to take the chance.

We make it to the garage in twenty minutes; just late enough to be defiant, but not enough to really get into any trouble. It’s a delicate balance that Kal and I have perfected by this point.

Lee and Min materialize out of the crowd to grab me as I’m handing my equipment (stun gun, bolas, various smoke canisters) over to the techie. It’s not hard to flip both of them to the ground, to Kal’s amusement. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t do a lot of things for Kal’s enjoyment.

“Oi, pets! No roughhousing in the garage, or we’re taking you to the pound!” Yuki shouts, shoving her way over to us. She pulls the guys up off the floor and ruffles my hair. “Hey, kid. You excited?”

I nod. She’s always called the four of us the “pets”; we aren’t the youngest anymore, but we were the first kids. She loves to tell us that Amon would’ve thrown us out on our ears by now if we weren’t housebroken.

She’s gotten hard in the past few years. There are deep lines in her face that weren’t there when I first met her. An edge to her voice, rough, as if she’s been smoking when no one’s looking. Even her hair has started to gray at the temples. She argues too much, I know She storms out of advisor meetings so often that most of us wonder why Amon still counts her as an advisor. I can hear her and dad shouting at each other from down the hall sometimes. If we’re all being honest, if she didn’t have her limited nursing experience, she’d have been tossed out on her ear a long time ago.

“Try to keep your excitement down, alright? Just remember that it’s Amon’s night.” She barely rolls her eyes. I’m proud of her self-control. “And that your father will kill you if you do something reckless. Speaking of--your father, not recklessness--he wants to see you. He’s patching up the brakes on your bike.”

They went out on the last mission. I bailed and cracked a rib; the bike was a bit more damaged (read: it crashed into a bush in front of four Triads I’d been working with while undercover, and they were nice enough to help me push it to the empty garage).

“Alright. Kal, can you grab my stuff? I’ll be back in a second.” I give a half-wave and Min nods in acknowledgement. Kal’s already loss interest.

My father waits for me at the edge of the garage. The door is open, sending wave after wave of early summer heat into the concrete room. He keeps his black hair tied back in a loose ponytail. Sometimes I do the same, but it makes us look more similar than I like, so I don’t do it often. He only ties his when he’s doing grease work.

He’s grown sharp and hard too, in the past few years. Lines define the bones and muscles in his face. He’s lost weight. Now he’s lanky and lean, relying on speed, when once I had seen him best any opponent with strength alone. Not that he’s any less intimidating or strong or capable of putting anyone on the ground.

“Test it.” It’s an order from a superior and I sigh. His voice is never warm (it’s too gravelly for that), but there are times when he’s not an advisor. When he’s just my father. This is not one such moment.

Ice cold eyes watch every move I make as I get on the bike, probably noting down the way I catch the kickstand with the curve of my foot instead of with my heel, or the way both feet leave the ground for a split second. He’ll critique me on it soon I guess. He always does.

“Just to the end and back.” He grabs the handlebars before I can pull out. It’s a test ride, to the end of this little concrete driveway and back. He always specifies how far my leash goes, in case I forget. It’s mostly because I’ve run away before.

I floor it down to the end of the driveway with a roar. I can’t see his face from here, but I can feel his eyes on me. Just for him, I throw the handlebars to the side hard enough that the bike leans over, so low I could touch the ground if I dared.

I slam hard on the brakes when I come back to the garage, skidding to a stop maybe a foot from the open doorway. I’ve gathered quite a small crowd, all looking expectantly between my father and I.

“They work,” I declare, as if it weren’t already abundantly clear. Kal, off to one side, giggles behind her hand. Min whacks the back of her head to get her to shape up. Good. If anyone’s getting in trouble, it should just be me.

But, much to my surprise, my father doesn’t yell. He turns to Lee instead. “Keep her from doing anything stupid.”

“No promises.” Lee’s snicker earns him a glare. He doesn’t shrink or bow down; he’s one of the very few people my father can’t cow. Sometimes I wonder if Amon would cower if, in some strange world, my father saw fit to glare at him.

It doesn’t matter either way. The Lieutenant’s here now, raising his arms for silence. “Listen up! Team assignments! Yuki, you and your six are on the main tuck, security and containment. Draw straws for a driver. I want two in front, four with the cargo in case any of them decide to get tricky. My six, we’re in the second truck, same set up. We’re decoys, so no messing around. Get moving!”

There’s a blast of organized chaos where Yuki ruffles my hair and plants a kiss on the top of my head before running off to one of the trucks, trying to get her squad together. Most squads have six, but Min, Lee, Kal, and I are one of four. It’s our age, best we can figure, but there are sixes not much older or younger than us.

We stand still in the commotion, not entirely sure what we’re doing here. There were no marching orders given. Eventually, the Lieutenant seems to notice us, breaking away from his argument with one of his men (something about drawing the straws again, he wasn’t going to drive) to come back to us, head craning down to meet my eyes.

“You four are taking the guard on your bikes. Two at the front of the decoy, two at the back of the real truck.” He nods down slightly towards me. “You’re on the back, no questions. The other three can go wherever they want.”

Min nods, while Lee’s lips purse into a thin line. He and I both know why I’m at the back. Kal could probably figure it out too, if she stopped to think about it. I’m a first line of defense if anyone comes after us--any benders, that is.

Lee pats my shoulder. “I’ll take the back with you, since I told your dad I’d keep an eye on you.”

Min sighs. He and Kal never work particularly well together. He and I do better. Unfortunately, Lee and I are the best tactical combination, which sticks Min with Kal most of the time. He just doesn’t have the patience for her.

There’s a delay of checking to make sure all our radios work and are tuned in to the right channel. Another few minutes of sound checks. Yuki asks for the address twelve times because no one can hear her. I start to answer, but it’s the Lieutenant who cuts me off, barking out directions in the back of the decoy truck.

Lee and I meanwhile roll our eyes at the ridiculousness of our charade of dating; he helps me get my mask and goggles on, even though I could do it perfectly well by myself. He holds on to my handlebars to hold the bike steady when I get on.

We’re both choking on the clouds of exhaust by the time Min, Kal, and both the trucks have pulled out. We follow at a much slower pace, deliberately keeping behind the others. He looks over at me as we ride, tapping his ear to signal me to turn my radio off.

He’s close enough that I can hear him speak, even over the hum of the engines. “If anything happens…”

“I know. It’s on me. I’ve got your back, Lee.” It’s an automatic response by this point, my gloved hands tightening around the handlebars. I’m responsible for a lot of things, safety being the biggest. Sometimes I wonder if Amon’s ever thought about how strange it is that he puts the most dangerous person in charge of security so very often.

“No. I was going to say you clear out and let me handle it. You can’t risk getting caught.” Lee’s answer is a welcome change from the typical one I get, even if the darkness in his voice is uncharacteristic.

I know I’m tempting fate, but I’m no good in serious talks like this, and one of us has to lighten the mood. “No way. I’m not letting you take anything by yourself--what if the Avatar comes after us?”

He scoffs. “Right. Like she’d leave her happy little island to rescue some missing gangsters.”


	5. The Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Revelation begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally hit canon!

I wonder what we must look like to any of the homeless who see us drive by. Dad and Mr. Sato fixed up all the engines so that we can travel silently, with only the faintest hum to tip anyone off. Even this late, the roaring hustle of the city easily drowns us out. No one realizes we’re coming until the headlights glide over them or we pull by.

Lee and I switch our radios back on when Yuki leans out the back of the truck to glare at us. We’re getting close. I can recognize the desperation in this place. The Triads have held this part of the city for far too long. Businesses close when they can’t make their “security” payments. Buildings burn when someone dares to make eye contact with one of the gangsters. The police don’t even have beat walks down here, and they don’t investigate reports, either. If we have a captain in our pocket, I have no doubt that the Triads have one in theirs.

This is when I know I’m doing the right thing. When we come to the parts of the city that look like this, all ashes and uneven roads and noises that could be explosives or a car, a door or a scream. This is why we fight. This is why, despite the deception, I stay loyal to Amon and no one else. Lee and I have talked about it. Even with his own contempt for the Avatar, I have no doubt that he’d have left the Equalists years ago, if it hadn’t been for me. He’s got too much passion to stay neutral. But I trust the Avatar less than I trust Amon. Amon has been around my entire life. Like it or not, he took care of me, Tam, and my father. Whatever his true story is, whatever made him feel like he had to lie about his burns, he’s still the side I want to be on when the lines are drawn.

The alleyway is narrow, but I did enough pre-planning and measurements to know that the trucks would fit. Lee and I lean our bikes against the dumpsters, not even bothering to turn the engines off or put the kickstand down. Yuki opens the back doors of the truck and we wave them back, her relaying our “okay”s and “stop”s to whoever’s driving. The second truck manages to pull in without an issue. The Lieutenant and the rest of his team pile out slowly. No one dares to even breathe too loudly. We let ourselves into the back of the building. I know the layout better than any of them, but I don’t want to take point. Not that they’d ever let me.

We take positions in complete radio silence. If it weren’t for the goggles, we wouldn’t be able to see each other at all. I hunker down by the back door with Lee. He caught my arm before I could move up any further. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until the door cracks open and it rushes out of me in one blow.

The fight ends as quickly as it begins. None of the action reaches me. Lee has to keep careful hold of my arm; the flying fire lights the room, casting dangerous shadows across everything. It calls to me in a strange way. I should be up there. I should be pushing the fire away from the others. The gloves keep me from actually bending, from creating fire from my own hands, but they do nothing to stop me from moving fire that’s already been created. I’m not accurate and it’s one of the most dangerous things I can do, just for the sheer amount of people who could be hurt around me, but it’s...thrilling, in a way.

I don’t get a chance to work with the fire. It’s an Earthbender who takes advantage of a momentary distraction (namely, Yuki being slammed into a wall and Lee and I starting to run to help her) to bolt past us and out the back door. Not what I wanted. But he’ll do.

There’s no fear he could get very far when Lee and I rush after him. The trucks block off one end of the alley, and the other end leads even deeper into the gang-controlled alleys; not somewhere we necessarily want to follow him to, but also not somewhere he’s likely to go. Being caught in another gang’s territory is a death sentence. And, indeed, he stands looking between the trucks and the darkness of the alley, eyes wide like a trapped animal.

He doesn’t fight like one. In the time it takes him to make his choice and start to flee for the alleys, my bola is wrapped around his ankles and Lee has pounced, hitting all the necessary block points in a matter of seconds. Each type of bending is different, and you have to focus on different points of the body. Lee, luckily, excelled at those lessons, where I only excel at the combat itself.

It’s not the fight I was craving. It’s pitiful, in fact. Everyone else is out of the building in a matter of moments, bound, gagged, and barely conscious gangsters in hand. For a moment, my father’s eyes flicker behind his goggles, slices of blue darting over me to check for injuries. He only needs a miniscule shake of my head before he’s back to business, climbing back into the truck. Lee and I load our captive in with the others, his head shaking and bright green eyes flickering between us the whole time. I feel like I should recognize him.

Yuki climbs in the back as well, pulling the doors shut. Her voice clicks over the radio. “We’re secured. Good to go, kids.”

Lee and I pick up our bikes and hop on, just as Min, Kal, and both trucks rev to life again. Pulling out of the alley is just as slow as it was to get backed in. The first truck clears it with no problem, but just as the second one starts to pull out, Min’s voice crackles back in my ear.

“Oh, _shit_!” He almost shouts. My stomach sinks as he fumbles to sound professional again. “Shit--Kirin, Lee, you’ve got two coming!”

Two Triads. Lee and I look at each other. He pulls free a smoke canister and I grab my second bola. We can handle two Triads. Min shouldn’t be panicking over two Triads. He should have expected two Triads.

“Yuki, get moving!” My father should not be panicking over two Triads. This is danger, real danger; the fire starts to itch beneath my skin, and it’s all I can do to keep from taking my gloves off. 

Finally, the truck starts moving, tires jumping with the first initial rush of speed. Lee and I linger back for a few seconds, blood pumping and feet starting to go numb, waiting for the back door to the building to open. My father blasts over the radio again. “Kirin, Lee, _move_! Abort whatever you’re doing, just--clear out!”

The weight that’s settled in my stomach hasn’t gone away. We rev our engines and start to turn to go, just as the door slams open behind us. We both look back to see what’s coming, what’s got everyone so panicky. All of Lee’s breath rushes out in a burst of static on the radio.

The Avatar stares back at us. Lee smashes his canister and we floor it.

“Avatar’s on our tail!” I glance back over my shoulder to see if she’s still there; not only that, but she and the boy have taken to riding the polarbeardog. Or whatever that is. “We’re taking a secondary route--not--not entirely sure which one, but we’ll be back a bit late!”

“Don’t try and fight her! Just run!” Min is a paragon of good advice.

I don’t have time to think of a response to him. There’s a rumble in the ground, and when I look back, the Avatar’s almost on her feet to bend. I can feel the tremors as they flash through the earth. “Lee, ramp!”

He barely shifts his weight in time, as the pavement juts up beneath him. He soars for a few feet before crashing down, tires bouncing and squealing and smoking. But the smell of burning rubber choking my lungs is the least of my worries. The fireballs searing inches from my arms and head are a bit more important. I could deflect them easily enough if I didn’t have to drive, but at the rate we’re going, we’re not going to lose them.

“Kirin, what’re you--” Lee’s sentence is drowned out by the protest of my bike as I slam the brakes and throw the handlebars to the side, low enough to the ground that I can jump and roll safely, coming back up to my feet just as the Avatar skids to a stop. I can feel Lee behind me, climbing off his bike much more responsibly. “I’ll take the firebender.”

He clicks his radio off and I do the same, just before we spring into action. My bola flies for the dog’s legs. I’d hoped to catch the front two. That would have been enough to bring it down. Instead, by some stroke of luck or the Spirits deciding to cut me a break, all four legs come together mid-leap, just perfect enough for the cable to snare all of them. The dog hits the ground with a heavy thump, throwing both of its riders across the ground. I’ll feel bad if the animal’s hurt, but not too bad; it’s just another casualty. We were never taught to care much for collateral damage. The Avatar and the firebender are on their feet and coming at us too fast to care, even if I wanted to.

Lee jumps for the firebender and I rush the Avatar. She throws fire at me first, which is easy enough. I barely have to bend it away from me. I can push it, but I can’t create it. Not a single blast hits me, even when I move closer. I expect her to switch--earthbend to knock me away, waterbend to heal herself, airbend out of the situation--but she stays with fire. I’m not complaining. It feels like we’re dancing. I match her move for move. I may not be fully bending, but the movements are the same, still dangerous even without a fireball on the end.

She kicks high and I match her, throwing the fire away. She leaves the smallest opening in her guard as her arm goes up to strike again. It’s not so small that I can’t break through, and I dash forward, hitting all the points along that arm and retreating a few steps. She stumbles back, clutching her arm, and I shift my weight to my toes. She’ll be mad now.

She keeps fighting with her good arm. My hands come up too slowly to push the wave of fire away from me in time, and it slashes across my stomach. If it’s burned me, I don’t feel it yet. She’s still off-balance, sloppy now. I go low, almost tumbling across the ground to get to her foot. I don’t bother with only blocking off certain points; she’s the Avatar. Preventing her from using one element won’t help the situation. I move up her side, bringing her to the ground as I go, and back down her other arm. I spin for a moment to check on Lee.

The firebender is down. Lee throws him away, towards the middle of the street, and I kick the Avatar across as well. The two collide in the middle and fall into a heap.

The dog is back on its feet now, charging towards us with a roar. We’ve done enough. It’s my turn to smash the smoke canister, buying us enough of a distraction time to get on our bikes and go. By the time the smoke has cleared, we’re long gone.

We stop at one of the safe houses across town from where we were to ditch the bikes and change clothes. It’s a long walk back to the main section of the compound, but it’s safer to come in from here. We took a roundabout way to get to the safe house as well. There’s no chance we were followed.

The adrenaline fades as we make our way through the tunnels. The burns on my stomach start to hurt, and my legs start to shake. Lee keeps curling and uncurling his fingers. I can’t tell if it’s out of nervousness or checking to make sure they still work. We’ll be in Yuki’s office for at least a few hours.

When we get to the garage, it feels like everyone in the compound is there, huddled around the radio system. Only static crackles across. My father sits hunched in front of the mic, his hair starting to fall out of its ponytail and his eyes wide with uncharacteristic fear. Yuki paces a few steps away.

When I raise my voice to speak, the entire room turns to stare. “What, did you think I was that easy to get rid of?”

There’s a moment of silence that breaks into nervous smiles and laughter before it grows into cheers as everyone realizes what’s happened. Lee and I are here. The Avatar can be defeated, even by two teenagers. This is a milestone. There’s congratulations and pats on the back and someone yells something about ordering take-out to celebrate, which pulls a snarky response from Kal’s mom. The food takes the attention off of us and most everyone heads out to the cafeteria. Yuki, Min, Kal, and dad remain.

Yuki, in a strange twist, is all business. She checks our eyes and turns our chins to try and find some visible injury. Other than a few scratches from flying pebbles, there’s nothing. “You two didn’t get hurt?”

Lee peels his gloves off to reveal pink and puckering skin; it’s a burn, but nothing too bad. Some aloe and bandages and time will be enough. Yuki clucks her tongue anyway and hurries him over to a side bench, her “station” in the garage. She mumbles to herself about reckless kids.

My father, on the other hand, is a little more worrisome. He comes over to me slowly, the same fear from earlier creasing his brows and making his hands shake. I’ve never seen him so scared. He reaches out to brush my hair away from my forehead, and I know what he sees. Sweat, dirt, and a few bruises. The masks and jumpsuits are designed for anonymity and ease of movement, not necessarily protection. And, in a strange moment of instinct, I throw my arms around him in a hug. He tucks his chin down on top of my head.

“Don’t do that again. When I tell you to leave, you leave.” He breathes. I nod. It’s an empty promise, and I think we both know it, but it sounds good for now.

“She wasn’t that hard to fight.” I finally break out of the hug. “We’ve been overestimating her. Thinking she was some--I don’t know. But she’s not as good as we’ve been planning for. She earthbent once, and everything else was fire. She was--she was predictable. She’s a kid. I mean, it’s-it’s advanced moves, but...I don’t know, there was just--”

“Save it for a report. Amon will probably call you two to his office tomorrow anyway. Word’s going to spread fast.” Dad shakes his head, running his hand through his hair anxiously (I do that too). He pulls his hair straight out of the ponytail. “Just glad you’re alright. That could’ve been…”

He doesn’t have to say it. If the Avatar had been someone else, if I had been someone else, I wouldn’t have come back. Lee wouldn’t have come back. I clear my throat. “But it wasn’t, so there’s no point worrying about it. I’m fine. Lee’s fine.”

Lee raises his voice. “Kirin got hit by a fireblast!”

I turn to glare at him, and Yuki grabs my arm, exchanging him for me. “Yuki, come on, it’s..it’s on my stomach, and the guys are here…”

“You four live together.” She has no problems yanking my shirt up to expose the swath of pink skin. She starts rubbing the aloe over it immediately. “Spirits, you got lucky with this. Both of you did. Any hotter and you’d be going to a real doctor.”

“Yeah, well, talk to Amon about getting better suits,” I grumble. She finally pulls my shirt back down and pats my hip, her seal of approval of my health. “Thanks, Yuki.”

The room’s still eerily silent. It’s starting to press on me, and I don’t like having five sets of eyes on me. I rock uncertainly on my heels. Thankfully, Lee comes to my rescue.

“Hey, so while we’re talking about how great Kirin and I are,” He grins. “How about the fact that we got a pro-bender for the Revelation?”

Pro-bender. Suddenly, everything clicks into place. The Avatar wasn’t there for us, she wasn’t there for a group of gangsters. She was there to get her teammate back, and the firebender with her was there to get his brother back.

Yuki shakes her head. “I don’t like it. Too dangerous, too...showy, especially so early. And it got the Avatar after us.”

“What, do you want us to just let him go?” Min scoffs. Yuki turns to glare at him, and it seems he forgot he was talking to his mother for a moment. “Uh, I mean, that’s...okay. If that’s what you think. We could do that. If you convinced Amon.”

“Okay, I heard food so I’m just--” I turn and bolt out of the room before anyone gets a chance to stop me. Apparently, it’s enough of a break in the tension. Min’s not three steps behind me, sprinting to try and outpace me. Lee and Kal thunder behind us, presumably in a less aggressive race.

“Loser eats the food first!” I shout.

Kal huffs. Her parents and her grandmother run the kitchen, and while the food isn’t inedible, it’s not the best. We make a lot of jokes about it. Probably too many, honestly, but we’re all friends, and she never fights back.

***

Lee and I tell the story what has to be a hundred times. The details get changed each time, mostly because of us. If we’re going down as the kids who fought the Avatar, why not make it sound better than it was? Dad and Yuki head out from the cafeteria early on, after Amon makes a brief appearance to give a short speech. We did good tonight, tomorrow’s going to be even better, no one get too excited because we haven’t won the war yet, but we have won the first battle. I have to curl my nails into my palms to keep from flinching when he drops his hand onto my shoulder to congratulate me.

I finally get a chance to break free of the crowd and sit with Tam towards the end of the celebration. He sits with some of the other kids around his age, playing with his homemade pai sho set. Tam’s the king of pai sho. He’s got a head for strategy that I don’t have. He and dad used to play all the time when I was a kid, back when we all lived in one room here together. I got bored of watching. It took them ages to finish a game. I still don’t have the patience for it. Two of the kids on the bench scoot over, making just enough room for me to perch on the end by Tam.

He barely looks up at me, brows furrowed in concentration. “Hi, Kir. Is the party over? Congratulations on everything.”

A few of the kids’ eyes go wide, and they jump up off the bench in their excitement, all their voices overlapping each other. “That was _you_?!” “I heard the Avatar was, like, ten feet tall! And-and had horns!” “Can you do it again?! I wanna see!”

Tam sighs and slumps forward onto the table as his partner forgets their match. From what I can tell, it wouldn’t have lasted much longer than two or three turns.

“Hey!” I have to almost shout to be heard over the din of kids asking for a reenactment. “It’s getting late, huh? If you guys go to bed on time--now--I promise I’ll show all of you tomorrow!”

That’s all it takes to send them running like monkeys to find their parents and go to bed. Hopefully, they’ll have forgotten all about it by tomorrow. I shift down to the opposite end of the table from Tam, looking down at the board. “Hey, come on. Avatar couldn’t beat me, let’s see if you can.”

He barely lifts his chin off the table. “You suck at pai sho.”

“Then you can tell everyone you beat the girl who beat the Avatar.” It’s useless; he’s already packing the board up. “Hey, Duck, come on. What’s up?”

“Nothing, I’m just...I just want to go to bed. I’m tired.” He doesn’t look at me, too busy tucking the board and all its pieces into the pack on the side of his wheelchair. A few of his pencils fall out, beyond where he can reach, and I go to grab them for him. “Thanks.”

He looks so much like our father that sometimes I wonder if our mother ever existed. Our father’s ice blue eyes, our father’s inky hair, even the slightest hint of our father’s voice. I don’t know what I’ll do when he hits puberty and there’s two of my father. The resemblance ends with the physical, luckily. Tam and our father are nothing alike in personality. I wonder if, when he gets older and starts voicing his dislike of “The Cause” (as everyone’s so keen to call it), dad will throw him out, too.

“So, how are your lessons going? Are you still working on that painting of Asami Sato?” I ask, keeping pace with him as he whirs down the tunnels towards his and dad’s room.

A schoolteacher who got laid off came down and joined up a few years back. It was too late for me to go to her, of course, but all the younger kids have had lessons with her for as long as they can probably remember. I’ve only met her a handful of times, but she seems nice enough. She tries to keep Tam focused and engaged, but he outpaces the rest of the kids with every topic. He’s smarter than I ever was.

He looks at me like I’ve grown a second head, as I open the door to the room. “I haven’t had lessons in weeks. Amon pulled me out. He wanted me designing fliers and stuff.”

Sure enough, as I step into the room, Tam’s desk is littered with crumpled up pieces of sketch paper and fliers with notes scribbled on them in handwriting that’s all-too-familiar. Amon telling my ten year old brother that he likes the color scheme in this one, but the lines were more defined in the other one, and he much preferred definitive to an abstract. Buried beneath it all, as I sort through them, is an old, half-finished portrait of Asami Sato. He’d pulled the reference from one of the magazines. She’s gorgeous, and Tam’s an artist. I pinch the society papers for him whenever I can. I still think he’s got a crush on her.

“That’s ridiculous,” I scoff, finally finding my voice. “You’re ten years old! He can’t just pull you out of class, throw everything on its head...there has to be someone older than you who could do it.”

“You were ten when you started,” He says from somewhere behind me. When I turn around, he’s already hauled himself out of the wheelchair and onto his bed, and has gotten his pajama shirt on. He fights to get his pants changed, shaking his head when I take a step to try and help. “I got it, just...give me a second.”

A second becomes a full two or three minutes where I keep rocking on my toes, having to fight the urge to knock his hands out of the way so I can do it. He manages, in the end, and beams over at me, so happy I have to at least fake a smile.

He doesn’t fight me when I tuck him in, thankfully, and turn his wheelchair so he can easily get into it. The thing’s motorized, but it doesn’t come when called. Not yet, anyway.

“Good night, Duck.” I kiss his forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow. It’s a big day!”

I flip the light off as I leave. I can still feel him watching me, though. Tam’s the smartest kid I know, and not just when it comes to lessons. He draws better than half the adults here. And, worst of all, he can read me like I’m an open book. He can tell when I’m lying or telling a half-truth. He knows how I feel before I know how I feel. It’s frustrating, but reassuring; even when I feel like everyone here’s against me, when I lose sight of the goal and wonder if we wouldn’t be better off without Amon, Tam is always on my side.

I don’t go straight back to our room, or to the cafeteria. I can still hear the chatter when I pass by, though. Some of the adults will stay up all night. We’ll all get a lecture from the Lieutenant or Amon himself on “proper conduct”. I’ll zone out again and Min will probably try to lecture me on paying attention to superior officers. It’s just the way things go.

There’s no one on guard outside the cell block, which I suppose is alright. Even if they could bend, by some odd chance, the cell bars are reinforced to resist against earth, water, and firebending. A perk of having the biggest engineer in the city on your side. They won’t rust, melt, or crumple. It’s a perfect prison. Even if they broke out somehow, there’d be an alarm, and the benders would have to find their way out of the tunnels.

They’re all still unconscious when I go in. There were probably sedatives in the food; I can see half-eaten bowls in the darkness. When I stop at the last cell on the left row, there’s a strange catharsis in seeing Zolt slumped against the back wall, as if he were dead. There’s just enough light for me to see one of his eyes blackening and the tell-tale burn of electricity on his wrist. My father has already been here.

I don’t have it in me to beat him up any further. I’m burned and aching from the Avatar. Besides, there’s nothing I could do that would be any more satisfying than what’s going to happen to him tomorrow.

The whimper barely catches my attention as I turn to go. When I stop and look around, a pair of bright green eyes peer out of the dim lighting of one of the cells, staring at me. I curse Spirits and men alike as I kneel to be on eye level with Bolin. He’s too afraid, too much like Kal, too much like Tam.

“Hey,” I whisper. He yelps and starts to scamper back. I hold my hands up innocently. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. ...Bolin, right? I’m Kirin.”

He still only stare at me. I don’t know if he saw what my father did to Zolt, or heard it, or if someone came in here to bother him, or if this is just typical fear to being put in a cage. Whatever it is, he’s barely even responsive.

“I’m...I’m a friend.” I hate myself sometimes. But there’s no cameras in here, there’s no way for anyone to know what I’ve done. If he rats me out, no one would believe him. Not tonight, not tomorrow. I’m my father’s daughter and I’m the girl who beat the Avatar. He’d be a desperate bender trying to save his own skin. So, with that miniscule comfort, I snap my fingers together and a flame dances in my palm. I only hold it long enough for him to see and know that it’s not a trick before I put it out.

He scrambles forward to the bars, still looking for all the world like a trapped animal. “Look, there’s--there’s been a mistake, I’m not-I’m not with them! You know who I am! I mean, I was with them, but I’m not really one of them! It’s-it’s a long story, can you-can you get me out of here? Please?”

I bite my lip and shake my head. “No, I’m sorry. I can’t let you out. But if you need anything, just ask for me. Someone will come find me.”

That’s a lie. Even if someone comes to get me, I’ll deny knowing him. I’ll say he must have heard me talking to Zolt. They’ll take my word over his. As long as they don’t know I’m a bender, I’m infallible.

“Wh-what’s going to happen to me?” His bottom lip quivers dangerously. But there’s no point in lying and telling him it will be alright or sunshine and rainbows. Lying that I’ll come help him is one thing. Lying that he still has a future is another.

“Best case scenario, you lose your bending and we turn you back onto the streets.” I keep my voice matter-of-fact. “And knowing the worst case scenario won’t help you sleep. You’ll need your rest.”

I draw myself back up to my feet, looking down at him. I can still feel his eyes on me as I leave. I can still feel them burning into my back even after I shut the door behind me, and even as I let myself into my room.

Kal, Min, and Lee are already there, in varying states of undress. Min chucks his shirt at my head and it blinds me for a moment.

“Hey, if Yuki pulled my shirt up in front of all of you, turnabout’s fair play. I should get to see some abs,” I tease, pulling the shirt off of my face. They’ve all finished by the time I get untangled, and I have to change into my pajamas by myself. I guess that’s fair.

“Where’d you go? You just vanished from the cafeteria,” Min asks, climbing up into his bunk above Lee. I didn’t think anyone noticed me leaving.

“I wanted some air. You know how hot it gets when everyone piles into one room.” I flip the fan on as I climb the ladder to my bunk. It’s actually not too hot in our room, but still, it makes it seem like I’m telling the truth. “Went up for a few minutes onto the street. What, is that a crime?”

Min rolls his eyes. “Pardon me for caring about my friends.”

Lee sighs, kicking up to hit the bottom of Min’s mattress. “Come on, guys. Kiss and make up. It’s been such a good night.”

“Yes, dad,” I roll my eyes, speaking in unison with Min’s “yes, mom”. There’s a bit of an unspoken agreement in our group. I don’t mention Min’s dad, he doesn’t mention my mom, we all get another day spent in peace.

Kal gets the lights and she crawls into the bunk below me. With the lights out, we all settle down, pulling the sheets up over our heads. Lee snores.

***

I wake up with the sheets half thrown off my bunk and Kal wrapped around me. I know I kick and make noises when I have nightmares. I didn’t realize it was this bad. She shushes me softly and strokes my hair, almost sounding like my mother for a few moments.

***

The next day is a blur. Lee and I go to get our bikes back in the early hours of the morning, and then we’re in meetings with Amon and his advisors about the fight with the Avatar for most of the day, and then it’s running last-minute drills for security at the Revelation. I’m still bandaged up beneath my clothes, but I’m starting to feel better, at least. We’re on crowd control. It’s an easy enough assignment, so long as nothing goes wrong. If anyone gets too rowdy or upset or tries to start trouble, Min, Kal, Lee, and I descend to give them an escort to the door. We aren’t the only ones in the crowd, of course, but everyone’s got their eyes on us. Lee and I aren’t necessarily looking to have a repeat of yesterday, but we know we need to stay up and keep impressing. That’s the only way to keep ourselves out of trouble, really.

We get dressed in silence, like soldiers. It’s rare we get to wear our casual clothes out. All our clothes are an amalgamation of each others’; it’s been so many years together that we don’t much care anymore. Min’s hat, my knee-high boots, Kal’s pleated black skirt, Lee’s button-down. Kal may be the only one who wears only her own clothes. She’s probably a little too dressy and pretty to be in the crowd.

We meet up outside the warehouse, shifting around and feigning conversation to try and look normal, like we’ve only just arrived.

We all look at each other in silence. Finally, Min clears his throat. “So, how’re we dividing up?”

Lee groans. “Why do we always have to split up? Come on, not tonight.”

“We’ll cover more ground if we’re in groups,” I sigh. I hate splitting up as much as Lee does, but Min’s right. Min’s hotheaded, but he’s got strategy. He’s not an idiot. “I’ll go with Min tonight. Give everyone a fair rotation of working with the, uh, world famous Equalist who took down the Avatar.”

“You’re barely famous in the tunnels,” Lee scoffs, slapping the back of my head. He moves anyway to loop his arm through Kal’s.

We start to see the first of the crowd topping the hill. We split off as they come down, Min and I pretending to be a brother and sister pair, while Kal and Lee fake coupledom. We flash fake fliers at the door guards and give fake names to the people around us. Alia and Yan Din, brother and sister from the slums. We have to force ourselves to keep from scoffing or escorting them out when the two we came in with start talking about why they’re involved. They don’t really want to be Equalists, they say, but it’s so nice to be part of something. They want to make a statement and be part of a change, but really, all they want is to say they went to a rally. They want to brag.

We break away from them as the room starts to fill up, and push our way to the front of the crowd. We pass Kal and Lee on the way, as they move towards the back, only nodding in greeting. Everyone’s packed in shoulder to shoulder. I doubt there’d be room for someone to cause trouble if they wanted to. It’s strange, though, to see how busy it is. I knew how many Equalists there were. I knew the exact number. What I didn’t realize was how many people in the city sympathized with us. I didn’t realize how many people hated benders--hated me.

There’s still a buzz of conversation as we all wait for the show to start. There’s a girl and her boyfriend in front of us, leaning over against each other. They’re a bit disgusting in the way they act. I’d be willing to bet that the scarf wrapped around her neck is his, too. Min elbows me and nods his head towards them, rolling his eyes.

“So, I didn’t get a chance earlier,” He looks down at me. I have to lean up to catch his voice over the din. “But, uh, happy birthday. You finally caught up to me and Lee.”

My birthday? I forgot. The Revelation took precedence. We didn’t have time to throw a party, and the past few weeks have been so busy, I didn’t notice anyway. There was no way to keep up with time. “Uh, yeah, thanks. Sorry, I...slipped my mind.”

“No problem. We were gonna get you a cake, but then things got...well.” He lifts his hand to motion around the room in what little space we have.

The air’s stifling by the time the lights dim and Amon takes the stage. My father, of course, is right there with him, as is Yuki, standing guard over the prisoners. I can tune out the speech as Amon starts. I’ve heard the story, or some variation thereof, hundreds of times. We all have. This rally isn’t for us. It’s not for the ones who live with him and see him every day. It’s for everyone else.

When they bring Zolt forward, I push straight past the girl in the scarf and her boyfriend. Min moves with me.

Zolt looks out at the crowd, rubbing his wrists as soon as the ropes are cut. Amon’s still talking, but I don’t hear him. I don’t care what he says. I rock up to the balls of my feet and I watch with baited breath as Zolt tries to fight him. I know the outcome. No one in the tunnels can beat him in a spar, and he trained us. Someone from outside never stood a chance, bending or no bending. Lightning arcs across the stage. I almost look away because that could have been--should have been--me up there, me forced to the ground, me twitching and pleading as my bending drains away, but by some miracle, it isn’t. It’s Zolt. It’s the man who killed my mother.

I’m giddy through the next three demonstrations. They deserved it. All of them deserved it. They were bad people, they hurt others, they killed people, they ruined families. They deserved what they got. They deserved to have the most crucial part of them ripped away right here, in the sight of everyone they had ever wronged. This was the message, this was what we would leave on the city. No one would get away with abusing the power they’d been given. Not as long as we were around.

Min digs his elbow into my ribs to bring me back down to reality. Yuki hauls Bolin to his feet and pulls him forward, untying the ropes around his wrists. A momentary pang of sympathy cuts through my haze. Maybe Bolin was innocent. Maybe he never hurt anyone. Or maybe, as he stammers to find a magic word that will stop the inevitable, he reminds me too much of Kal and Tam.

There’s a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye. The firebender from last night stands beside of me. Bolin’s brother, I remember with a start, and he’s poised to strike. I don’t get a chance to catch Min’s attention before there’s an explosion and steam floods the room. People start screaming and panicking.

Min grabs my arm through the fog. “Can you get to the mic?! Help with evac!”

“No way!” There’s fire and electricity arcing through the fog from the stage. There’s a fight. I wonder if Amon’s swinging with his guards or if he’s vanished. “Telling them to go in a calm and orderly fashion isn’t going to do any good--let’s get to rally points!”

We’ve got plenty of training, it’s true, but getting through the crowd and out of the building is still a trial. We meet up with the rest of crowd control and take up positions for rallying points. We’re out for what feels like hours, reassuring people that it was really just steam. No, we hadn’t planned on this. Yes, we had top security. Yes, this was a safe place, and yes, we were awfully young to be doing this.

Finally, everyone’s been cleared out, and we head back inside. We seal the warehouse off and drop into the tunnels.

Yuki finds us almost immediately, and catches my arm. “Your father’s hurt.”

I leave her with the others and flat-out sprint to her office. It’s a small suite of rooms, packed with cabinets of medicine, and lined with beds. Usually, the worst that anyone winds up in here for is a pulled muscle from practice or a few cracked ribs from a spar gone wrong.

Dad groans when he sees me in the doorway. He sits on the edge of one of the beds, bandages wrapped around his chest. “Kirin--”

“What, are you trying to take my glory?” The joke falls flat when my voice cracks slightly. For all our differences and arguments, no one likes seeing their parent hurt.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He groans again as he tries to push himself up, this time out of pain instead of annoyance. I take a few steps towards him but he waves me back. “I’ve got it. I’m a grown man. Who got his ass kicked by someone his daughter took down.”

“Shit, the Avatar was here?!”

“Language, Kirin.”

“You said ‘ass’ fist.” I stick my tongue out at him. “But seriously, the Avatar was here? How’d she get in? I didn’t see her at all.”

“Either she had a good disguise to get herself in, or I dreamed getting slammed into a wall by a rock.” He gives up on trying to stand, and stretches out on the bed. He shrugs as best he can for the pain and bandages when I raise a brow at him. “It’s comfier here anyway. Plus I’ve got Yuki waiting on me. How often does that happen?”

I scoff. “Yeah, yeah. You just want a day doing nothing. S’alright, I’ll keep an eye on things, keep everyone in line for you, don’t you worry about that. And if the scary Avatar comes around, I’ll keep her away from you.”

“I can still ground you, you know.” He ruffles my hair, laughing. It’s rare to see him smile or laugh. It fades in a few moments, anyway, and he grows serious again, the lines creeping back across his face. “Hey, seriously, kid. You did good last night. I’m proud of you. I never said that, and I should’ve. I don’t say it enough. Just...keep it up. You’ve come so far in seven years. Keep an eye on things if I’m out for more than a day. Help Amon if he needs it.”

I just nod along. I don’t get compliments from him, ever. It’s always that I could’ve taken a step sooner or should’ve held back or whatever. It’s always flaws. It’s never that I did something...right.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure everything runs smoothly.” I pat his hand awkwardly. Neither of us really know what to do when moments like this come up. We’ve never had the chance to just be a father and a daughter.

“You always do.”

And it’s true. I do.


	6. Breathe In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone takes time to breathe after the Revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning!  
> This is the chapter that involves the Bad Stuff in the tags (or most of it). Chapter contains: discussion of child death, discussion of sibling death, and mention of attempted suicide. Nothing is described in any gory details, but it can still be upsetting to read.  
> To summarize if you can't read the chapter (and no worries if you can't): Lee has a tragic past and a dead sister. Kirin and her friends have a birthday party for her 17th birthday. They give her a new set of gloves, a hand-made cake, and a new set of non-bending gloves. All this'll get recapped in later chapters without the bad details!

I leave as he starts to fall asleep. As far as birthdays go, this isn’t the worst one I’ve had, not by a long shot. Sometimes I’ll get presents. Sometimes I get cake. But never, ever, have I gotten a compliment from my father. A real, honest compliment, not him just trying to curry favor or keep me in line. I can spot those compliments from a mile away and I call him out on them. He gets mad because I told the truth, we argue, he puts me on janitor duty for a week or two and thinks that’s enough to keep me down. He doesn’t seem to realize what I’m quickly learning: I’m invincible. I’m strong. I will get through anything that’s thrown at me.

Of course, that doesn’t quite account for me turning the corner to go to my room and finding Lee waiting for me. I jump what feels like a foot off the ground. He only barely cracks a smile.

“I hope you’ve got a good reason for that,” I snap, going to push past him. In response, he just holds up a take-out bag he’s been hiding behind his back. I stare at it in disbelief. “Is that Qwong’s? How’d you get that?! That’s like--most expensive place in town!”

He shrugs. “I’ve got friends. Don’t...get too excited, okay? It’s just the food that didn’t get served. I put the rest in the kitchen, but I saved us two plates. Figured that, after tonight, you might could use a dinner out.”

My stomach growls as if on cue. “You know me too well. Where are we going?”

“Bridge is nice this time of year,” He takes a few steps back, still dangling the food bag in front of me.

“I’m not an animal, you don’t have to do that,” I snap and swat the bag away. Not hard enough to knock it out of his hands, of course, because whatever’s in there smells too good to risk losing it. Just hard enough to get him to quit and walk normally beside me.

“So...big night.” He starts as I let us into the garage. I go to get my bike off the wall. “You nervous?”

“What would I be nervous for?” I finally get the engine to turn over after a few cranks. These things are death traps, but they’re fun. Dad’ll need to fix up my engine when he feels better. I probably threw something out of line with all my tricks last night. “Come on, get on.”

Lee slides onto the seat behind me, food cradled between us, and I ease us out of the garage and onto the still-bustling roads. Things are slower now, of course, given the hour, but Republic City never truly sleeps.

There’s only a few other people in the city who have bikes like ours. I don’t quite know why we’re allowed to use them as personal vehicles. It’s only the kids who can do it, only the people under eighteen. I guess that the logic is that no one will question where a kid got one, so long as we act rich enough. Parking the bike to one side of the bridge, walking out on the pedestrian section, and sitting down halfway across with a bag of almost-stolen food between us doesn’t exactly scream rich, but it does scream reckless, which I hope is enough to protect us if we get caught.

Lee’s been tight-lipped the entire ride. I lean over to bump his shoulder as we sit down. “Hey, why would I be nervous?”

“Amon went public.” He finally answers between mouthfuls of noodles. “Everyone knows about him now.”

“What, do you think I’m nervous someone’ll come after him? He’s got the best security, Lee. Tonight was just a fluke. We’re all keeping an eye on him.” I, at least, cover my mouth when I talk through the noodles. I’m not entirely sure what I’m eating, in all honestly. Qwong’s is mostly Water Tribe food. It’s great, of course, but I couldn’t name it or tell you what’s in it.

Lee just sighs. “No, I mean...are you nervous about, you know...you? He might not keep letting you off the hook now. I mean if he already knows, then…”

I never told anyone what, exactly, I saw when I went to collect my doll all those years ago. All I told Lee and Kal was that I had a suspicion Amon already knew what I was. That much, I thought they deserved to know. It’s driven Lee a little insane ever since I told him. He doesn’t think that Amon would let me skate by out of the goodness of his heart. Not on as much of a crusade as he’s been. Lee says that Amon wants something from me. For a while, I believed him. But too much time has passed. If Amon wanted something, he’d have made it clear by now. He’s patient, but he isn’t stupid. If he wanted to take my bending, he’d have done that by now, too.

“Lee, I’m as good of an Equalist as any of the rest of you. He knows that. You and me--we took down the Avatar and her boyfriend. We’re valuable to him.” It’s only half of an argument. I’m too tired, too happy, to really get into it with him tonight. Not on my birthday. Not on Revelation night.

He seems to get the hint and falls silent, at least long enough for us to finish eating. I appreciate that, at least. Usually, when we go out at night, it’s to meet other people. Lee’s got a trail of broken hearted boys and girls at least a mile long. He’s a romantic at heart, really, but living underground tends to kill most relationships, unfortunately for him. I’ve got far fewer in my wake. The idea of dating has never appealed to me. But, regardless, it’s rare that we go out with each other. Usually, it’s because he wants to “talk” to me about some perceived threat or problem or wants to try and turn me against Amon. Peaceful dinners alone with Lee are almost as rare as compliments from my father.

“Look, I’m just worried about you, alright? You’re playing a dangerous game with this,” He reaches out to touch my shoulder, but I jerk away. “Kirin, come on.”

“No. I don’t need you worrying about me, alright? I’m doing just fine. I’m not in any danger--you’re in more danger than I am, talking about how you’d run off and join the Avatar!” As much as I want to shout, I force my voice lower. I don’t think there’s any danger of anyone hearing us, but I don’t want to take the chance. The last thing either of us need is being investigated for ties to the Equalists. Amon and the Lieutenant would leave us to rot in the jail if that happened.

Lee takes a deep breath. Neither of us have particularly good tempers, but he’s better at controlling his. “Kirin, I’m just...okay. Sure. Whatever. You’re fine. You’re in no danger whatsoever, Amon likes you better than anyone.”

“Don’t condescend to me.”

“Why are you so loyal to him? He wants to destroy you! He wants to destroy everyone like you, I just--” He sighs. “I just don’t understand how you, especially, could follow him. You’ve got a choice about it, now. You’ve got your revenge.”

“Revenge? What are you--” Zolt. Lee thinks that I’m only here to get revenge for my mother, that I don’t have any real loyalty. It all starts to make sense. “l’m not in this for revenge! I’m doing this because we’re making a better life for non-benders everywhere--for us!”

“For _them_ , Kirin! You are a bender, you’re ruining your own life!” He grabs my shoulders this time, and I’m too stunned to shove him back. There’s a wildness in his eyes. I could beat him if he started a fight, I have no doubt of that. But this is different.

I finally knock his hands away. He doesn’t try to hang on to me; I guess he knows he did the wrong thing. I go for one more, shoving against his chest and pushing him back a few steps.

He holds his hands up, trying to feign innocence. He asks again. “Why are you loyal to him?”

“He gave us a new life--all of us. You, me, Tam, dad, everyone! You know where we’d be if he hadn’t taken us in. I’d be--I’d be a Triad, and Tam would be dead.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. They’re more of the truth than I like anyone to know. I could have so easily become a Triad or some other criminal. I could have so easily grown up to hurt people. “He gave us hope. And if...if you don’t like him so much, then just leave!”

The words were supposed to hurt him, but there’s nothing behind Lee’s eyes. Just the same anger that’s been there this whole time. It registers, somewhere in my mind, that he’s been planning this conversation. “Would you die for him?”

“What? O-of course! Wouldn’t you?” I sigh when he starts to shake his head. “What about the Avatar--wouldn’t you die for her? Half the city would!”

“ _No_ , Kirin. I wouldn’t die for her either. She can do whatever she needs to do on her own, without sacrificing anyone to save herself. I don’t think I’d ever need to die for her.” His voice is still sharp.

Even with the knife in his voice and the fire in his eyes, he’s infuriatingly calm. I start to pace back and forth a few steps. I could get on the bike and leave him here. That would be one way to solve this, I know, but then I’d just have to deal with him when he finally came back to the tunnels. Logically, I know it’s better if we get this worked out now, in the open where we can shout and push and yell without worrying about eyes and ears in the walls. Usually, it’s Min and I fighting, over strategy or who gets to lead the team, or whatever the issue of the day is. Those fights are routine. But when Lee and I fight, it’s months upon months of bottled up disagreements. It’s like two bombs going off right next to each other.

“That’s stupid--you’ve seen what she does! She doesn’t care if she hurts people on her little crusade! She set off all that steam and someone could have gotten burned or trampled. She’ll kill you if you get in her way.”

“And Amon wouldn’t? You know what happens to people who say things he doesn’t like.” He lifts his brows to stare down at me.

Sometimes people go missing. No one we’ve ever been intimately close with, but missing is missing. Amon and the Lieutenant tell us that they chose to leave the movement. The look in Yuki’s eyes tells us that isn’t the whole story. But they never turn up dead and we never hear from them again, so it’s possible that they did just leave town.

“They were traitors. I’m not,” I finally stop pacing, spinning back to face him. “And what about you, huh? Why’re you here? We’ve all been open with it and with everything that’s happened to us, but you, you just keep to yourself, don’t tell anyone--”

“Kirin--” His voice overlaps mine, but I barely hear him at this point. My own blood’s rushing in my ears, too loud for me to hear myself think.

“No, no, don’t ‘Kirin’ me! Why are you here? If you hate us so much, why are you an Equalist? It must be a real petty reason, for you to be so-so unloyal, and trying to pull me away from everyone else!” I’m pacing again, rocking back and forth on my feet. There’s energy and heat building up inside of me, the fire beneath my skin, and I have to get it out. I can’t bend, I’m not one of Them.

“I had a sister!” The bomb drops and explodes with his words. Shrapnel from it flies into me. He _had_ a sister. His voice cracks, bringing him dangerously close to tears. “I had a twin sister. She--our best friend was a waterbender. We were playing at the Bay. Our friend had just learned how to make water whips, and she was showing us, and--well, if one of those hits you hard enough in the head, then...but she didn’t mean to do it. We were all just kids. She lost control of the water for a second, and...then Sarisa was gone.”

There’s no air in my lungs, no blood in my veins, no fire in my skin. Lee never told any of us what prompted his family to join the Equalists. He had both of his parents. That was rare enough. He dodged the question if we ever asked, and his parents were hardly around. Eventually, we stopped trying to find out. Min and I were open with our grief. Lee has been silent for seven years.

“My parents--not me--my parents wanted revenge. They still want revenge. I’m done with looking for it. My sister is dead, and a hundred benders losing their bending won’t bring her back. All of the city losing its bending won’t bring her back, and it won’t bring back--Miri was our friend’s name. She tried to drown herself a few years ago. My parents should have been happy with that, but they’re not. That’s all this has ever been about for them. But I want something more. I want hope, not war.” He only stares at me and I know the story’s over.

“That’s not why I’m here, Lee. I’m not here for revenge, or anything like that.” My voice cracks as well as his, and I try to smile. “So you can-can drop this whole thing of trying to talk me out of being here. I want to make peace, and-and help people. That’s all we’re doing. We’re giving new lives. Everyone can start over.”

He sighs, and this time when he drops a hand onto my shoulder, it isn’t threatening. “That might be why you’re an Equalist. But it’s not why your father is. Talk to him about this sometime. Ask him why, really why, he’s an Equalist.”

“My mother.” The answer’s obvious. But from the set of Lee’s jaw, it’s not the answer he’s looking for. Either way, it’s the truth.

He motions towards the bike. “Come on, let’s head back. Someone will be looking for us.”

The ride back is spent in silence. More stunned for me than anything. Lee has always been so solid and infallible. He’s had my back on everything, even if it was filled with little snarky comments that drove me up the wall. I guess that, after so long of not knowing his motives, I just assumed that he...I don’t know what I assumed. The concept of him hurting and suffering is completely foreign to me. I don’t know if there were signs I missed, or clues I didn’t pick up on. Surely I would have noticed.

We’re still silent as we let ourselves back into the tunnels from the garage. It’s well after curfew. I don’t know if the night guards will be going around, especially with Amon out of the compound (he always goes to one of his safe houses after anything public or risky), but still, I’d rather not be on the receiving end of that phone call to Amon. I sneak in and out with Lee plenty of times, but we’re just good enough to not get caught. I don’t have any doubt Amon knows, considering he knows everything that happens around here. Just like I don’t doubt he knows about my bending or that I still break into his office every so often. There’s a big difference, though, between him knowing what I do, and me getting caught doing it. Especially if I get caught with Lee. I don’t know if Amon’d punish me or him.

Lee starts to open the door to our room, but I shake my head and motion farther down the hallway. Tam’s room isn’t on this hall, but the signal’s clear enough, and Lee nods. With dad in Yuki’s office for the night, Tam’ll be on his own. He doesn’t have nightmares, not like I do, but he’s only ten. That’s too young to be left alone.

I creep through the hallways on my tiptoes. I don’t see a single night guard, but I’m not sure if that means they just aren’t patrolling here, or if they aren’t out at all. Either way, it works out for me. I make it clear across the compound to dad and Tam’s room without a single problem. I can hear some people in the cafeteria when I go by, chatting aimlessly about the Revelation and the sunset and everything and nothing. Technically, they’re not supposed to be out either, but no one ever gets in trouble for going to the cafeteria in the middle of the night. We all get hungry.

The door’s unlocked when I get there. Tam should know better than to leave the door unlocked. It isn’t that I’m worried about someone sneaking in and hurting him. I don’t think anyone here is capable of hurting a child. But at the same time, I still worry pointlessly. He’s mine to protect. I have to make sure he knows how to take care of himself.

Reminding him to lock the door when he goes to bed will have to wait. His bed is empty, his wheelchair and art supplies are gone, and all that waits for me is a scribbled note on his pillow. ‘Hi, Kirin. Amon took me with him to the safehouse. He wanted dad to go too but he told me what happened. The rest of the advisors are going too, except for dad and Yuki. Full retinue of guards. I’ll be gone by the time you see this, but I just wanted to let you know I’m okay. We’ll be back in a week or two. Love you!’

I tuck the note in my pocket and sigh, patting his pillow. “Love you too, Duck.”

Whenever Amon goes off into hiding, he usually takes Tam and a few of the other children with him. It’s safer for them there, we all admit, out of the compound until the city calms down. The teacher goes with them so they don’t miss any lessons. He never takes dad; someone has to stay behind and run things in Amon’s place. Yuki usually goes unless someone’s hurt and needs her attention. We’ve got other “nurses”, although none of them ever actually worked as a nurse before we came here, so Yuki runs that show. The guards he takes cycle through. Teams are disregarded when it comes to safe house security; I swear that he just pulls names out of a bin and calls them. Dad refuses to tell me whether that’s true or not.

It’s a bit strange, of course, that I’ve never been called to go on safe house duty. Lee, Min, and Kal have all had to go. They radio back at night and tell me how Tam’s doing. But I’ve never been called. I’m just paranoid enough to wonder if it isn’t blackmail to keep me from running away or telling Amon’s truth. As long as he has Tam far away from me, I don’t dare to do anything. If it isn’t blackmail, then it’s a damn good coincidence.

Everyone’s still awake when I get back to the room, perched on their bunks and clearly in the middle of a gossip session when I open the door. They all freeze to turn and look at me.

“What? Don’t tell me I look that much like my dad,” I try to joke, but it takes a few seconds before the blank stares crack into hesitant smiles. “Were you guys talking about me, or something?”

“Not everything’s about you, you know.” Min chucks a pillow at me and knocks me back into the door. Not hard or meant to hurt.

That’s all it takes for everyone to fall back into comfortable silence while I change into my pajamas. Lee still refuses to meet my eyes for too long at a time, but that’s what usually happens after we have a fight. Things are strange and awkward for a few days before we both swallow our pride enough to go back to normal.

“So, if we’re not talking about me, what are we talking about? Or do I not get to know?” Before I can even finish asking, Min’s hopped down off his bunk and ducked into the bathroom. I’m not entirely sure if that’s good or bad.

He comes back quickly, a covered tray balanced in his arms. “So while you and Lee ran off to get married, Kal and I actually buckled down in the kitchen and made…”

He puts the tray down on the desk and pulls the cover off. It’s a clearly homemade cake, so lopsided and with such messy frosting that I almost laugh. There’s no candles, of course, and I know I have Kal to thank for that. It’s Min’s handwriting, though, that wishes me a happy birthday.

“Thank you.” I laugh, leaning forward to blow out seventeen imaginary candles. The three of them clap, and it’s almost strange when tears start to spring to my eyes. It’s a birthday cake. It’s just like every other day. But for some reason, this is just...different. So many things have changed today and in the past year. Plus, Min hates cooking.

We don’t bother with forks or plates. We just all pick up pieces with our hands. It makes a huge mess, of course, but that’s half the point. We don’t have times together like this where all we do is laugh and make messes and act like kids. We’re just teenagers, when it comes down to it. But we get treated just the same as the adults by everyone else. In fact, it happens so much, that I think even we forget who we are. It’s not hard to do.

We eat around the desk, so as not to get cake smashed into our bunks. When we’re done, it’s a free-for-all in the bathroom of trying to wash our hands and faces off. There’s only marginally more water on the floor than there is on us when we’re done. We take turns standing on towels and skating across the floor to wipe it up, laughing and squealing the whole time.

It’s an hour and three rounds of the team in the room beside of us beating on the wall before we calm down enough to sit. Everyone crowds onto Kal’s bunk, Kal leaning up against me with Lee and Min squished against the railings on either end. Kal yawns.

“Alright, I think that’s enough for tonight,” Min grins, wriggling his way off of the bunk and out of our rapidly-falling human pile. He climbs halfway up to his bunk, throws back the sheets, and jumps back down, a box in hand. “And here’s your present. It’s from all of us--we had to join up to get it.”

I stare at the small box for a few moments, stunned. “You guys didn’t have to--”

“But we did,” Min rolls his eyes and pushes my shoulder, still standing across from me. “And you can’t change that, so go ahead and open it.”

I untie the ribbon and peel back the loose brown paper. Kal digs her elbow into my ribs when I hesitate to open up the box. It’s a pair of gloves. Special gloves, of course. Gloves made for me. I stare at them for a moment.

“We noticed that your pair were getting a little small. I mean, it’s been seven years. So we...well, we asked your dad, honestly, and he told us to go to Mr. Sato, so we did, and…” Min trails off, looking nervously between me and the gloves. “Do you like them?”

I slip them on and curl my fingers, in and out, testing the material and the fit and everything. They were right, of course. My old pair were getting small. I just hadn’t realized it until now. These fit ten times better, feel ten times better on my hands. They fit--well, like a glove.

“Of course I do. This is perfect.” I throw my arms around Kal. She’s closest, and the least likely to punch me for it. Honestly, it’s much more than I ever imagined. I don’t remember when the last birthday I got a present was.

Kal suddenly scrambles up and unlaces her arms from around me. She knocks my feet out of the way and pulls out another box from under her bunk. It’s much bigger than the box for the gloves, and she drops it in my lap. When I start to protest, she just slaps her hand over my mouth. “Don’t say a word. It’s my grandmother’s, from when she was young. It’ll be a little outdated, but it’s past time you got something new. I didn’t have to pay a single yuan.”

Sure enough, it’s a dress inside. It’s been resized to fit me. Kal knows my measurements as well as I do. Crimson red, and styled for fifty years ago, when her grandmother was our age. More Fire Nation than Republic City. Still, it’s beautiful, and it must have meant something to her grandmother; she was the first one in their family to come to the CIty, one of the first people to live here at all.

“Tell her--tell her thank you. A lot.” I hug Kal in her grandmother’s place, taking care not to wrinkle the dress on accident. I tuck it back into the box and tuck the box back under the bed. Everyone starts to clear off and head back to our own bunks. We lie there with the lights on for a few more hours, probably into the early part of the morning, talking back and forth. We don’t talk about the future, of course, but we never do. For now, this is our future.


	7. Press Conference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a major shift in the tunnels, Kirin and Min are sent out to spy on the Avatar's welcome gala.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't feel all that great about this chapter, but at least it's going up.  
> I don't condone Kirin's attitude towards Tam in this chapter, or her attitude towards disabilities in general.

Amon stays away for longer than he has before. None of us can blame him. The whole city’s turned on its head with all the talk of the Revelation. There are rumors that the waterbending councilman wants to start a task force to hunt us down. These are the days we spend huddled around the radio and training. My father makes a slow recovery, but he also refuses to stop trying to work long enough to let the bones and muscles heal. Even Yuki gives up on scolding him after a while. Everyone hears their argument; the next day, he’s back in the training room, running drills and hitting anyone who starts to make a mistake. It’s strange, though, that when he stands on the top of the overlook and watches us, he singles me out with praise and has me demonstrate some moves. It’s true, of course, that I’m one of the best at combat. But the looks everyone starts to give me scream that they think it’s all about my parentage. I don’t know which it is.

Dad spends most of his time in the radio room. He might be the de facto leader while Amon’s away, with all the authority that Amon wields, but he still can only do so much. He reports back to Amon every night, and they spend hours in meetings planning for the next few days. There are big changes coming, we all knew that, but I don’t think we were quite prepared for what that meant. Teams get reassigned to new positions, people get moved. We expand through the tunnels. The team in the room beside of us gets moved across the compound. We, of course, stay where we are. There’s a shift like this every now and then. We never move. Same room since we were little.

We do get reassigned, though. Dad says it’s my birthday, that everyone in the team is seventeen now. At eighteen, we’ll be adults, and it’s shaping up to be that we’ll reach adulthood still in the compound. Kal gets moved to be under Yuki’s care, learning medicine. Yuki’s apprentice and her successor, more than likely. Lee is shifted to the techies, working on designing equipment and running the radios. Min and I stay together and under the Lieutenant’s supervision, in combat. We run drills and train new recruits. Yuki and the Lieutenant never let us forget that we’re still in training ourselves, of course, with smart whacks from kali sticks and rope burn from being pulled across the room with bolas.

The dying days of summer turn to an early winter, and the Avatar shows no sign of leaving with the seasons. We all buckle down for a long winter. We've all heard of wars thwarted by snow, and we will not let ours be one of them. Winter is a season for change; all the old dies away in the cold to make room for the new. A new life grows in the place of the old. And, of course, we have to rearrange our shared wardrobe to account for the new weather. I didn’t get a chance to wear my new dress before summer ended, and it’s not really appropriate for the bite of winter. It’s long enough, sure, but there aren’t any sleeves. Not like there would need to be. They never have winter in the Fire Nation.

Min and I meet in the training room. It’s become our go-to meeting spot. He and I haven’t always gotten along. He and Lee are like brothers, and he treats Kal like a lost puppy. But as things start to fall into a new rhythm, he and I fall back into our old ways. Lee and I always clicked more than Min and I did, but he and I were always the leaders. We weren’t necessarily supposed to get along. But now we have a rhythm when we fight, fighting like we dance. It’s not always the best practice, considering how well we know each other, but it is a good workout.

He swings high and I duck low, tumbling across the mats and below his leg. I’m on my feet again in a second. When I swing for his left side, he turns sharp to the right, grabs my wrists, and knocks me to the ground. He stands over to gloat for a second too long. It’s just enough time for me to catch his ankle and yank both his legs out from under him.

“You were broadcasting again,” I breathe. We both lay there together, staring up at the swinging lights. “I could see you swinging before you ever moved.”

“Didn’t see me coming when I pulled you down. And I could see you swinging from the time you got to your feet,” He sticks his tongue out at me when he turns onto his side. It’s strange to see him like this. Min’s blood runs as hot as anyone’s, and we all act differently when we fight. But I’ve never seen him...act his age. Not even when we were kids.

It’s short-lived. The intercom beside the ring crackles to life and we both groan and roll to look at it. There’s another long few moments of silence before Lee’s voice slowly comes across. “Testing, testing. Kirin, Min, you two in there? Can one of you pick up the-the radio?”

The two way radio sits just beneath the intercom speaker. It goes to wherever the intercom is broadcasting from. Min and I stare at each other before he sighs and gets to his feet, climbing out of the ring to go answer the radio.

“Yeah, hey, Lee.” He says. His half of the conversation fades to a dull background noise as I haul myself up and start to try and stretch out the now-sore muscles in my arms and legs.

Min leans over the railing to watch me, apparently done talking with Lee. I stick my tongue out at him. He’s unphased, of course, and only waves for me to come up. “Come on, Lee says the Lieutenant and my mom want to see us. And he said to tell you that he told you he could get the intercoms working again.”

He had told me. It had been late and we’d both been sitting awake in the radio room. He was still working, but I was just awake. We never turn the radios in that room off. I like the hum of static from the stations that have gone off the air, the low whispers of late-night dramas, the lullaby of the music stations. I had sat on the desk and Lee had tinkered with one of the intercom stations, swearing to me that he’d get it set up again, and that he could get it to work so that he could interact with each room individually, instead of just broadcasting across the entire compound. I’d told him it was a long shot and that I doubted anyone could get it to work like that. Apparently, that had just motivated him more.

None of us were happy when they broke our team up. But we adjusted. It could have been worse, honestly; they put Lee and Kal in jobs they belonged in, and left Min and I where we belonged. Kal is safe and mostly out of combat. Lee gets to work with strategy, where he always excelled. Min and I are grunts. It could have been worse.

We both head for the showers, arguing over who gets to use the hot water and who has to use the cold. There’s a limited supply of hot water, especially in the winter, and showers get...brutal, when there isn’t enough to go around. Especially in the training rooms.

Eventually, I concede that he can use the hot water this time, and we pull our curtains shut. The water’s miserably cold at first, but sometimes fire has its use, and all I really have to do is heat the pipe to get it warm enough. Not enough to steam like Min’s shower, because I’m sure he’d notice that, but enough so that I don’t spend the whole time jumping back and forth on my feet.

Min raises his voice over the water. “So, what do you think we did? It must have been something, if it’s the Lieutenant and mom!”

It’s true; the two of them only ever get along when either something’s terribly wrong or terribly right. “Who knows? It could just be that they want to congratulate us. Maybe we’ve done such a good job and they’re both so impressed, they want to tell us in person!”

He only scoffs and falls silent in response. We finish our showers almost in unison, eyes dropped to the ground out of feigned modesty as we go to get dressed.

“That looks like it hurts.” He clears his throat and I look over at him, trying to figure out what he’s talking about. We’ve both got scars and scrapes and bruises. He motions towards his stomach. “The burns, and everything.”

I look down, shirt still bundled in my hands. The burn from my encounter with the Avatar still lingers, pink and angry. It doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s just a fact of life, at this point. It’ll fade, but I doubt it’ll ever fully go away. “It’s nothing. Doesn’t hurt at all.”

He purses his lips but lets it drop. He’s not like Lee, in that sense. Lee would make me talk about it and how it makes me feel and if it really doesn’t hurt or if I’m just saying that. Even if Min doesn’t believe me, he holds his tongue, at least about this. We never talk about the scar that travels straight down from my collarbone to my belly button, or the old burns that creep up my right shoulder and down my side, or the jagged scars that make lightning and puckered ridges out of my legs and most of my torso. Just like we don’t talk about his father or my mother, we don’t talk about the accident.

We finish dressing and head for the Lieutenant’s office in silence. The door swings open before Min can even knock, and the Lieutenant ushers us inside, where Yuki leans casually against his desk. Min and I exchange looks; it almost seems like we caught them mid-conversation. That never happens. They never just talk.

“Pick your jaws up off the floor,” Yuki snaps. The closer we get to her, the more we can see the tiredness in her eyes and the tears that almost threaten to appear, the way her mouth fades into a thin line. They were arguing, then. They had just stopped by the time we got here. “We’ve got a job for you.”

“I don’t approve of it.” The Lieutenant growls behind us. That’s even more concerning. Usually, it’s Yuki not approving of his plans, not the other way around. I didn’t even realize Yuki had the clearance to make plans.

“You can’t argue that they’re not the best for the job.” Yuki’s voice is a cold, sharp dismissal. I’ve never heard her like this before. The Lieutenant falls silent, turning away, and she finally continues. “One of the Water Tribe councilmen is holding a gala in a few nights to officially welcome the Avatar to the city. And--after _much_ deliberation, we’ve decided we aren’t going to suggest an attack.”

She pauses to glare at the Lieutenant. He pretends to be immune to the look, but I see his shoulders scrunch up almost defensively. Min and I look at each other again, still confused. We didn’t know there was going to be a gala until now. There was nothing on the radio about it and certainly nothing said in the training rooms. Yuki turns to retrieve something from the desk.

“However. We’re not going in armed and attacking, but you two…” She passes two slips of paper to Min. “We secured two spare tickets. Hiroshi. And you two will be going in to...well, spy. Keep an eye on the Avatar and find out what’s going on.”

“Don’t we have the City Hall radios hooked up? Can’t we just listen in that way?” Min’s right, of course. He and I hooked the radios up ourselves. We’d spent the night in jail for it.  
“We will be, but that can only get what’s being broadcasted. There’s plenty that could be said that they won’t put on the air.” Yuki sighs, looking over to the Lieutenant. “And...well, Hiroshi’s daughter is dating a firebender. He wants you two to...keep an eye on them, I suppose. Maybe talk to her, if you get a chance.”

Asami, Min, and I were children together, once. After her mother died and Hiroshi began designing for us, my father would go up to the mansion every so often to have a “business meeting” with him. He’d bring Min and I along most times, although sometimes it was only me, and the three of us would play out in the mansion’s yard or go for a swim or sit through a self-defense class together. But we were never exceptionally close (never close enough that it would be alright for me to give her dating advice), and I haven’t spoken to her in upwards of five years. If I didn’t see her every day in the papers, I’d doubt I’d recognize her, and I doubt she’d recognize me. But the two invitations in Min’s hand and the set to Yuki’s jaw leaves little room for debate. Either the two of us sneak in, or they take a less...discreet route. This is what she and the Lieutenant have been arguing over. He wants to attack.

“Of course. Sounds easy enough.” Min answers for the both of us. He’s the only one I’d let speak for me. He turns the papers over in his hand, checking the dates. “This isn’t a lot of time to prepare, though. I don’t have many...well, any swanky clothes.”

The Lieutenant awkwardly pats his shoulder. “I have some you can wear.”

Min’s a head shorter than him. The clothes might fit waist-wise, as they’re both lanky and thin, but they’ll dangle over Min’s hands and feet like he was a kid playing in his father’s closet.

Min nods anyway, and we head out. The Lieutenant shuts the door behind us, but not quick enough that we don’t hear the argument starting up again.

“They’re worse than usual,” Min mumbles. I can only nod along.

We head to the cafeteria first. It’s almost lunch and getting a good spot in the line, before the food gets cold, is always a challenge. Kal and Lee wait for us at one of the tables, and Kal’s mom cheerfully waves us over to her not-yet-as-crowded line. She dumps food onto our trays with a smile and waves us on.

Lee grins like he’s won the lottery. “And you said it wouldn’t work!”

I’m too tired to give him a real response. I scoop a spoonful of the unidentified mush off my tray and flick it at him. I miss (purposefully; starting a food fight is the last thing my reputation needs), but my point gets across. He sticks his tongue out. “Alright, alright, I won’t brag. What’d they want from you two?”

“This.” It’s Min’s turn to grin as he lowers his voice and we all lean in. He slides the tickets out of his pocket and onto the table. Kal’s jaw drops, presumably when she sees ‘gala’. Lee’s eyes flicker up to me. Concerned, maybe. He doesn’t get the right to be concerned about me. “While you two get to clean toilets, Kir and I are going on an undercover mission, right into the waterbender’s territory. Two Equalists, walking right into a party thrown by a _councilman_! Can you imagine if they knew?”

He means it in jest, in the pre-mission excitement we all get. And this is monumental. This is a new position for us to take. We’ve been in the shadows for so long, recruiting silently and being nothing more than a nuisance to the city, that direct action is still exciting, still thrilling. At least for the most part. It sinks in my stomach like I swallowed a stone. I can imagine if they knew what we were. They’d be angry--furious. They’d lock us in chains and send us away or who knows what else. Ransom us off to see if they could capture Amon or anyone. Kill us. Especially this councilman. Amon’s sent me there to spy on him a few times, a fake student with a fake note from a fake teacher about a fake assignment to interview him, and even with a charming smile, he’d tell me that he intended to “eradicate” the “Equalist threat” and make the street safe for little girls like me. I told Amon. Amon told everyone that they were just rumors, but we should still prepare for the worst. I wondered, then, if this would be the start of the worst.

“Kir.” Min’s voice shakes me from my thoughts. I blink a few times and shake my head, an answer to a question none of them asked. Min nods towards the doors. “I think Tam wants to talk to you.”

Sure enough, Tam sits in the doorway, his lunch tray perched in his lap. As soon as my eyes meet his, he smiles and waves. I shove the rest of my food in my mouth in one go and jump up.

“Hey, Duck.” I bend down to kiss the top of his head. He holds the tray up for me to carry and I roll my eyes, making a big, exaggerated show of how hard it is for me to lift it. Tam laughs.

He turns the wheelchair around himself, and I keep pace with him down the hall. He doesn’t explain any further than “I want to show you something”, but his shoulders bounce with excitement, ten year old energy that’s so uncommon for him I can’t help but laugh as well.

I stop laughing when I realize he’s led me to the kid’s training room. I open the door for him anyway. We’ve got a few rooms dedicated for training. The kids have one, the adults and teens have another, and there’s a third for physical therapy, in case anyone gets hurt too bad. We take care of our own. Tam usually only works in the physical therapy room, to get his upper body up to par so that he can take care of himself one day. Not that, if he ever got separated from his wheelchair, dragging around the dead weight of half his body would be easy, no matter the training.

“You can put the tray down.” He turns to beam at me out from under his bangs. I really need to cut those, since dad isn’t going to do it. I guess some of my apprehension shows. “It’s okay, Kirin. I just want to show you something.”

I go to put the tray down on the ledge beneath the intercom and the radio. In the time it takes me to do that and turn around again, he’s out of the wheelchair and dangling his legs over the edge of the matted training pit. I start to call out for him to wait for me to get there, but he pushes off before I can open my mouth, tumbling down to the mat and across it. He sits up a few feet from the ledge and grins at me. “That’s not what I wanted to show you, but that’s pretty cool too.”

I climb down after him, too angry and scared to even answer. This isn’t “cool”. None of this is cool. This is someone going behind my back and teaching my baby brother chiblocking moves. Tam was never supposed to learn this. He was supposed to sit in his room and go to his lessons and be our future. Not this. I can’t protect him if he learns this.

“Don’t help me, okay?” There’s such happiness in his eyes when he looks up at me that I feel almost guilty for being angry. It isn’t his fault. Tam’s just a kid.

It takes all of my strength not to help him as he struggles to push up onto his hands, trying to tumble across the floor. It’s easy for me. Tumbling and falling was the first thing we learned. But he had no way of knowing where his legs are once he loses sight of them over his head. He makes it eventually, huffing and red in the face, one full roll across the mat. He’s barely gone anywhere.

My voice cracks when I finally speak, watching him try and make another tumble. He’s getting nowhere fast, especially with as red as his face is. “Where are you trying to go?”

He looks at me sheepishly. “To the bars.”

I don’t give him a chance to argue with me before I pick him up. I suppose there’ll come a day when I can’t lift him so easily, or maybe when I can’t lift him at all. But for now, we’re both young. I set him down back on the edge of the pit before scrambling up after him. He glares at me in silence, lips twisted down into a scowl. “Stop that. You look like dad.”

“I wasn’t done!” He whines, knocking my hands away when I set him back into the wheelchair. He starts to struggle to try and get out of it again, but his arms collapse under the weight. He’s over exerted himself. This is why I didn’t want him learning.

“You’re done.” I snap and drop the tray back into his lap. He still pouts. I kneel to be on eye level with him, catching his arm to make him look at me. “You’re _done_ , understand? I never want to see you doing any of that again. You’ll just hurt yourself. Who’s been teaching you this?”

He bites his lip and lifts his chin, nostrils flaring in frustration. He glances back down at me, but if he wants to see who’s more stubborn, he’s not going to like the outcome. He finally sighs. “Dad.”

Dad. I’ve been mad at him before, but this is rage that settles in my stomach. He went behind my back to do this. He put Tam in danger, gave him big ideas of what he could do. Tam will never be able to do any of this. He’ll only get hurt.

Tam pouts in silence as I push him back to the cafeteria. He could flip the motor on and leave me behind, but as tight as I’m holding onto the handles of the chair, he knows that’d be a bad idea. I’d ground him if he’d dragged me along the floor. I’d let go, of course, but still.

I leave him at the table with the others. Kal grabs my wrist and Lee’s lips purse into a frown, but it’s Min who drags the conversation off of me, pushing lightly at Tam’s shoulder. “Hey, kid. So I’ve heard you’ve been getting good grades on your tests! Looks like you’ll be smarter than your sister ever was.”

It’s good-natured ribbing. It’s enough to give me a chance to slip back out of the cafeteria and into the halls, prowling across the floor, back to the offices. My father will be in one of them. I can hear his voice from the other side of the door, and I pause to listen. I don’t hear Amon. There’s a few of the other advisors (Yuki’s voice, I note, is conspicuously absent), but I don’t fear interrupting a meeting of the advisors.

I let myself into the room, and all conversation comes to a crashing halt. My father only sighs when he sees me, tired lines pulling in along his eyes as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Kirin, this isn’t--”

“I need to talk to you. Now.” I don’t let him finish. There are a few snickers from the other advisors, and I only lift my chin. They’ve laughed at me since I was a child. It won’t matter now. I have to talk to him.

“Amon will be here any minute.” His words are weighted. He knows I’m afraid of Amon, and under any other circumstances, Amon’s imminent arrival would have me running for cover somewhere else in the compound.

This time, though, I only shrug. “Then I’ll talk fast. Stop teaching Tam whatever it is you think you’re teaching him. He’ll only wind up hurt from it.”

A few of the advisors have the decency to look down at the table and pretend to not be listening. This is a family debate, and they have no place in it. One of them, however, doesn’t have the good sense. I’ve never liked him. When he turns to me, I push my shoulders back and stare right back. That’s probably why he doesn’t like me, come to think of it.

“Kirin, this is a very important strategy meeting, so if you’d please…” His eyes dart between me and the still-open door behind me. It takes all my self control not to look back to see if Amon is there, but there’s no chill down my spine, so if he’s coming, he’s not here yet.

“If you’d please not talk to me like a child.” I draw a few snickers from the other advisors. Apparently I’m not the only one who’s tired of him.

“As soon as you learn to hold your tongue!” His temper flares at the same time as mine, and both our shoulders draw back. We’ll argue until we’re blue in the face.

It’s the hand that curls around my arm that stops me from taking another step forward or responding. My father hasn’t moved from his spot at the table, and I know the gloves too well by now. I duck my head slightly.

“Kirin.” Amon’s voice is a low warning. Not a full threat, but I know he won’t hesitate to throw me out. “This is a surprise. I don’t recall inviting you to this meeting.”

“I was just leaving,” I mumble, turning to go. I have to duck under his arm, bringing me uncomfortably close to him as I go. I shut the door behind me and catch my breath.

Through the door, I hear my father stammering out apologies for my behavior and someone demanding that I not be allowed into anymore advisor meetings. My father casually points out, and I can almost hear the embarrassment, that I let myself in. I can hear Amon laughing.

Everyone’s dispersed from the cafeteria by the time I go back. Min meets up with me in the hall and offers me his arm. “Mom wants us in her office. Something about teaching us how to work undercover.”

It’s nothing neither of us have done before, but it’s a welcome relief from sitting around angry at my father and worrying about Tam. We spend most of the rest of the day in Yuki’s office, working on our posture and our words and everything we’d need to not get caught. Getting into City Hall is one thing, during the daytime, when it’s easy to pretend we’re students. But explaining how we have invitations is an entirely different matter.  


***

  
I don’t see much of Tam over the next few days. I hear the motor of his chair running sometimes, but I never actually see him. Dad and I avoid looking at each other, too, and the praise for my chiblocking suddenly drops off. Yuki only shrugs when I look to her for an explanation.

Min and I spend most of our time either training or with Yuki to practice our undercover abilities, or with Kalea and her mother to resize the dress to fit me and the Lieutenant’s old, spare suit to fit Min. We only have a few days to prepare, fully, and every second if it is spent working. I need to find someone else to look after Tam while I’m away and while dad is off doing whatever it is he does. Not that he’s ever done much in the way of fathering us.

Gala day is cold, the winter chill leaving everyone in the tunnels bundled up in gloves and scarves and three layers of clothes. Except for Min and I. He’s dressed in the Lieutenant’s suit, which from the way he keeps pushing the sleeves up, is plenty warm. He offers me the jacket no less than five times throughout the course of the day, shaking his head and saying that he doesn’t know how I can stand it, with the weather so cold and no sleeves on. I tell him I’m just hot blooded. He has no idea.

The radios are on and broadcasting throughout the compound all day, as well. All the announcers can talk about are the preparations for the gala and, just as frequently, the upcoming pro-bending tournament. Amon’s been making more and more radio announcements lately, especially since Lee joined the tech team. But today, though, he lets it go.

My father catches Min and I goofing off in the hall, Min tossing a ball made from my wadded-up tights to me, and me knocking it back with the flat of my shoe. As soon as we see him, though, we cut it out. Min tosses me the ball back and I start wobbling to pull the tights back on.

I take some small victory in the fact that, when my father speaks, it’s to Min. “How do you two plan on getting to the gala?”

Simple. “Walking.”

Simple, except that Min answers at the same time as I do. “Truck.”

We fall silent to stare at each other. I had assumed it would be obvious that we’d walk; not only was the truck too conspicuous, it didn’t fit our cover, and really, those things are death traps. I refuse to ride in them.

“...We’ll walk.” Min ducks his head in deference to me, and I let out a breath of relief. That’s not an argument I wanted to have. Not when we’re just starting to get along for the first time in ten years.

Min and I have grown closer over the past few weeks of having to work together, and only working with each other. So long as we’re in charge of ourselves, I suppose there’s no conflict. It’s as soon as we’re supposed to be in charge of other people that we have a problem. But, for all the new-found camaraderie between the two of us, Lee and I have been drifting apart. We haven’t talked anymore about his sister. It’s there, though, his accusations hovering just beneath the surface of seemingly-friendly conversations, and creeping into every conversation I have with my father. Not that I needed anymore problems with him.

My father nods in agreement, his eyes only briefly flickering to me. “Good. That’s what we were planning on. You’ll need to leave in an hour, if you want to get there on time. Come to the mission room when you’ve finished your...preparations.”

His eyes land pointedly on my discarded shoes. This was preparation. Just...a different sort. A way for us to get the pre-mission jitters out so that we don’t wind up in jail.

The mission room is one of the meeting rooms that’s been specially designed to brief anyone going out. There’s maps of the city, maps of the tunnels, maps of anything and everything we’d need. A hand-drawn map of the City Hall is the one that’s pinned to the table tonight. Min and I made the original a few years ago. It’s been updated and changed since then, presumably by scouts we’ve never met.

Despite the dress, I can still stand at attention, watching the Lieutenant and Lee pace back and forth.

“Kirin’s a journalist,” Lee begins, looking back up at the Lieutenant for an approval to continue. He’s stone-faced, as always. “MIn, you’re her...microphone holder? Personal assistant? Something. Anyway, just stick to your cover. We’re assuming there’ll be a press conference at some point. It’s Tarrlok and the Avatar. There’ll be something. And, of course, Hiroshi wants you to talk to Asami. Give some sob story about leaving the city suddenly and only just now coming back. Something like that. Uh...be careful, as always, and if you get arrested, you’re spending the night in lock up. Someone will be down to get you in the morning. Unless you rat us out. Then you’re on your own.”

It’s a cheerful little warning, but not one we haven’t heard before. Revealing any information about us results in a lifetime either in jail or running from Amon.

Lee pulls something out from under the table. I expect a weapon or a tape recorder or...well, anything other than a purse. I guess he catches the face I make.

“Just take it. You can’t carry your usual amount of equipment, but there’s a gas can in there, some yuans, lipstick, a compact, and a stun gun.” He almost beams with pride. “Packed it myself.”

It’s pretty impressive to have so much stuff in the small, black bag, I’ll at least give him that. I sling the strap over my shoulder and nod, patting it as it rests exactly on my hip. I suppose if it was anyone other than Lee, I would be more concerned that it was weighted to fall perfectly. But Lee’s an exception to a lot of things.

Min, jokingly, wraps his arm around my waist. “I’ll have her back by midnight.”

“The gala’s expected to run at _least_ until midnight. Stay in one of the safehouses, if you have to.” The Lieutenant doesn’t even roll his eyes at us. Usually we can at least get a sigh and reprimand not to goof off. I guess he’s still mad about Yuki’s plan being chosen. “Take the entrance on forty-second. It’s as close as we dare to get you, and it’s already prepared.”

The 42nd Street tunnel comes up into a shopkeeper’s storeroom. She knows about us, and we know about her. We chase down thieves for her. She’s a sweet old woman. She keeps a box of cabbages on top of the entrance at all times, to keep the police from finding us (if they ever had any reason to suspect her), and we have to make arrangements with her to move the cabbage box so that we can get out. We use that entrance sparingly, but it’s four blocks from the City Hall, and that’s better than we could have hoped for.

Min and I nod in unison and turn to go. Lee catches my arm before I can get out the door, and the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. He clears his throat awkwardly and drops his hand. “...Be careful.”

I hear “be careful” more times going through the halls towards the tunnel than I have in my entire life. There’s more “be careful”s now than there were when we went to collect for the Revelation. I’ve met Tarrlok before. Crafty, egotistical, but no reason for this level of concern. Min and I know what we’re doing. Waterbending councilmembers I can handle, I think. Heiresses I haven’t seen in years...might be a little trickier.

Kalea waits for us at the tunnel entrance with Yuki. Yuki pats us both on the back, even as Kal scrambles to try and re-pin my hair into place. She spent the better part of the morning getting it into a bun. I’m starting to wonder if it wouldn’t be easier for everyone if I just hacked it off.

“Got your tickets?” Yuki tugs at Min’s jacket, straightening the collar. In answer, he only holds up the tickets. She nods and takes a step back to look at him. “Spirits, you look just like your father.”

There’s an awkward moment where Kal and I suddenly become very invested in the zipper of my purse, letting the two of them say whatever they need to say. It’s all in hushed whispers and we try very hard not to hear. I catch something about Yuki offering to pull old photographs for him. Then the moment’s over and Kal’s got her hands on my hips to keep my steady as I struggle up the ladder to the shop, Min already above me and offering me his hands to pull me. I make it. We wave good-bye one more time and shut the trap door, pushing the cabbage box back into place.

On the sidewalk, Min offers me his arm like a gentleman. Like we belong in these clothes. “May I escort you?”

I sweep a clumsy curtsy and loop my arm through his. “Of course, good sir!”

It’s all we can do not to laugh as I totter along in my high heels, needing him for balance more than I needed him as an escort. Apparently, no one considered that a lifetime of chiblocking doesn’t necessarily mean I can manage any terrain in any shoe.

We were prepared for more resistance than we met. The two bouncers only barely looked at our tickets. I kept my shoulders back and my chin up, and they waved us on without a second look. Min mouthed “wow” at me as soon as we were safely in the crowd. We take a moment, just a moment, to be awestruck. We’ve been in City Hall before, but never have we seen it lit up like this, decked out and filled with people all dressed to the nines. It’s a world of difference from the dance we held in the tunnels when we were fourteen.

“We’ll stick together.” Min whispers, ducking low to my ear to be heard over the tink of champagne flutes and the murmur of low, self-congratulatory conversations. “No point in splitting up if you’re my ticket into the press conference.”

“We’re looking for Asami, first.” I nod in return, lifting up to my tiptoes to glance through the crowd. There’s no sign of the airbenders. I’m assuming that’s who the Avatar will come in with. I catch a flash of red and black through a clump of people, and shift my grip to Min’s hand. “Come on.”

It’s faster moving through here than moving through the crowd at the Revelation. These are people bred in high society. Benders with too much power. They keep their elbows tucked in. Min and I, with broad steps and bull-headed determination to get through, stick out like sore thumbs. I don’t care. Reporters have never been known for their politeness.

I stop a few feet short of Asami. She shakes hands with photographers and a few others, presumably real reporters, her father and her boyfriend nowhere in sight. I turn to look at Min and he looks over my shoulder at her. I shake my head. “Min, I can’t do this. She’s happy. Look at her.”

She is. She’s smiling and laughing, real smiles, real laughter, none of the fake happiness that I saw when we were children and we were all grieving. And she’s pretty. Radiant. If I go up to her and try to ruin her relationship, I’ll risk taking that happiness away.

“She’s better off without a bender in her life. You know that,” He whispers back, reaching forward to tap my chin. “Come on. Hiroshi didn’t say you had to get them to break up. Just...plant the seed. Talk to her.”

I start to turn, to pull away from him and leave before she can see me, tell Hiroshi that his daughter is his business and not ours. We’re not here to play babysitter for a seventeen year old girl. But before I can say anything or turn, I hear my name. “Kirin?”

I meet her eyes for a moment and Min digs his elbow into my ribs until I smile. Asami waves off one of the reporters and stops just in front of me, looking at me as if she can’t believe I’m really here. I scuff one shoe against the floor and nod. “Um. Hi. Asami. This is…”

“What are you doing here? Min.” I don’t know if it’s shock or anger in her voice. Or both.

Min edges past my shoulder and holds up a notepad, answering for both of us. “Reporting. After-school job, and all.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t seen you. Min’s mother was in an accident, and we had to take her out of the city, and my dad took Tam and me with them, and we’ve been away for years, but we heard about everything that happened and we’ve been keeping up with you, this whole time, and Min and I came back, and we started working, and I heard about this and figured you’d be here, and I begged for the assignment--I really wanted to see you again, and I’m so sorry for going away so suddenly, and…” The story tumbles out of my mouth too easily. I hope she believes it.

Her face softens either way, and she takes a step forward to give me a hesitant hug, both of us having to maneuver not to mess up our hair or dresses. “It’s...alright. I’m glad you’re back.”

I can feel Min’s glare burning a hole in my back. He’ll be mad I used Yuki as an excuse for us to have left the city, but as much as I love her, I don’t want to lie about Tam being hurt. I don’t want to risk any cosmic repercussions. Yuki can take care of herself. Tam can’t.

“I’m glad to be back.” I hope the forced smile is as believable as the lie was. “Can I...uh, can we ask a few questions? For the interview. It’ll...it’ll really wow our boss, you know?”

Well, at least that’s true.

She nods, still a bit shocked. I can’t blame her. I’d be shocked too. “Yeah, of course. Here, just let me…”

Min and I follow her to the wall. It’s quieter there, at least. She motions for me to go ahead, and Min hands me a notepad from a pocket inside his coat. At least it’s empty. It would be my luck to have a notepad filled with propaganda.

“Okay, uh, first question. Sorry, these are...they’re stupid. The only way I could get in here was on the society pages. There’s a, uh, a rumor you’re romantically involved with one of the Fire Ferrets. Does this have anything to do with your father’s sponsorship of the team?” I squint at the blank paper in front of me a few times, as if the questions are really written down there, and not just made up on the spot.

She rolls her eyes as well. I guess it isn’t the first time she’s been asked this question. Oops. “Mako and I are...involved, and I asked my father to give the team a hand. He helped because we’re involved, we’re not involved because he helped.”

We were so much younger when I first met her, and she was less determined, less outspoken, less sure of herself. Everyone’s more sure of themselves at seventeen than at ten, of course, but...still. I nod, starting to smile. “Right, of course. I...didn’t think that’s how it was. You being involved because of the sponsorship. Uh...anyway. So, what’s it like, dating an up-and-coming celebrity probender?”

“Wonderful. He’s great, and kind, and really down-to-earth.”

I’ve read that exact sentence before in an interview before. These questions aren’t going to do anything. I was trained to fight, not...whatever this is.

I tap my pencil against the paper, trying to think. “Right. Um...and do you have any thoughts about his close relationship with the Avatar?”

“I like Korra. I’ve heard good things about her.” Her eyes narrow slightly, and I know she’s catching on. I shrug helplessly. “I don’t worry about the fans, either. Mako’s a good person.”

The “interview” is done. She doesn’t lose her cool--she’s never been that kind of a person--but the set to her shoulders tells Min and I both that it’s time to walk away. This was a stupid plan, anyway. I nod, ducking my head, and Min steps up to bat.

“Thanks for your time. It was nice to see you again. Maybe we’ll come visit.” He smiles, the same lopsided smile he’s had since our childhood, the same lopsided smile that would have made anyone fall for him if he wanted them to.

“Of course,” is all Asami says before vanishing back into the crowd. She makes it look surprisingly easy for a tall girl in a bright dress.

Min looks over at me as I try to cram the notebook into my purse. He takes it out of my hands with a patronizing eye roll. “I am your assistant, after all.”

“Can we go home yet?” I never thought I’d ever be whining like a kid to go back to the tunnels, as dark and claustrophobic as they are, but anything’s better than being here. This is too far out of my element. I’m too exposed. People can see my face. And if I don’t watch the way I stand or hold my shoulders, they can see the scars on my shoulders, which is somehow almost worse than them seeing my face. At least my gloves match the dress. Min wouldn’t question the scars on my hands (not after this many years), but someone might. Some tipsy firebender might laugh and say “you too?” and everything would unravel.

Min leads me by my elbow to the snack table. I’m not happy about him pulling me around, but he at least knows to placate me with food. We load our plates up and find an out-of-the-way spot to eat. A waiter takes our dirty plates out of our hands and we both look at each other with raised brows. It’s enough to break the tension and we both sink to the ground in laughter, earning more than a few dirty looks from the people around us, but I don’t care. It’s been too long since I’ve laughed with Min.

We stay on the ground and watch people go by. Hiroshi pauses as he passes us, looking down for a moment, as if trying to decide if we really were who he thought we were. He doesn’t stop to chat either way.

Finally, when the crowds part and the first flash of orange and yellow comes through the door, we haul ourselves to our feet. Now that the Avatar’s here, the main event will begin. I catch Min’s elbow as we start back into the crowd, pulling him down to whisper in his ear. “Stay out of sight.”

And we do. For the most part, it’s effortless, but when Bolin turns a second too fast or I don’t see him coming through the crowd and have to turn away at the last moment, Min looks down at me. I just shake my head. I’ll explain later. He keeps me closer to his side after he figures out who I’m avoiding.

It’s ages before the press conference starts. We can’t find a clock anywhere in the building, including the bathrooms. A few of the real reporters start heading for one room as if on cue, and we trail after them, chins high and shoulders back. None of the security guards stop us. We’re mixed into the crowd fast enough for them to have a hard time finding us if they wanted to, too.

Min hands me back the notebook and starts digging in my purse. “Can I help you?”

He doesn’t answer, just holds up a little device from the depths of the bag, and zips it back up. “Recorder. You’re a fast writer, but you know how it is.”

I nod. It’s almost code. ‘You know how it is’. ‘You know how Amon is’. Exact words, not a teenager’s almost illegible shorthand. He can’t take my shorthand and twist it for the cause like he can with the exact words.

The low buzz in the room falls silent when the councilman appears at the top of the stairs, Avatar in tow. Min gives a soft “hmph” beside of me. All he’s seen of her are the pictures that the papers print. I’ve seen her in person before. It’s still striking, though, how much older and wiser she seems in pictures than in person, stammering her way through loaded questions. At least we aren’t the only two plants in the audience, even if the others were arranged by the councilman.

They take no prisoners with their questions. They must be getting paid infinitely more than we are. Min keeps the recorder up to make sure he gets every word, and I scribble furiously on the paper as the “reporters” pick up speed. I recognize the tactic. Hit from so many directions and so fast that the target doesn’t know which way to look. It’s exactly how we fight. The councilman smiles like a smug snake, and I wonder if telling him he’s using Equalist tactics would wipe the smirk off, and if that’s worth jail time for. It’s not illegal to be an Equalist, but I’m sure there’s something they could accuse me of and make stick long enough to interrogate me. The police I deal with might be incompetent. The force as a whole is not.

“I’m not afraid of anyone!” They’ve caught her. Min starts to lower the recorder. It’s over. “I’ll join the task force.”

The room erupts into cheers loud enough for Min and I to make our escape. No one seems to notice. The press conference was being broadcasted across the radio and throughout the building--everyone’s heard what we heard. A few of them shake their heads, the airbenders in particular looking disappointed, but we move past all the same. We don’t start running until we hit the pavement outside.

I drop to the ground within a few feet, massaging my ankle. Twisted, not sprained. It’ll hurt for a while. Min turns around to pull me up, which is a nice change from the snickers I expected. He even lets me lean on him as I unstrap the heels. We walk after that, me favoring the ankle.

“Hey, if you want to get a shower, I can go report. I mean, you’ll owe me, but still.” He nudges me with his elbow. Something’s weird about today in general. We haven’t gotten along this well in a decade.

I nod. “Yeah, that’d be good. You’re better at it anyway. They always ask me more questions.”

It’s true, at least. I’ve been in the room before when Min reports. He gets waved along, a quiet agreement to everything he says. I get grilled. It’s not fair, but it’s life. I just can’t stand to be in front of Amon for so long.

He helps me down into the tunnels. We have to rely on the ghost lights to get us through. We can’t risk using power at this time of night, plus it would wake everyone up, if we started turning the full lights on. I trip a few times with no thanks to my ankle, but he just pretends he doesn’t see. He’ll probably tease me about it tomorrow. He’s still in mission mode for now.

I head for the room and he heads for the conference rooms. One of them will still have the lights on and a team of sleep-deprived advisors inside. Amon will probably be there. He’ll probably already know what we know. There’s no point to reporting to Amon. He just knows.

Kal and Lee are both fast asleep already, and neither of them stir when I get a shower and get dressed. I wrap my ankle regardless of if it needs it or not. It makes me feel better, anyway.

The pain keeps me awake, and I crawl out of bed and tiptoe down the hall. I don’t know where I’m going or if I’m even planning on going somewhere specific. I wind up in the garage, looking at one of the trucks. I don’t like them. It’s the one thing dad and I agree on. They’re death traps, I’m not going to ride in one, and he’s not going to drive one. Even being near it brings up an instinctual jerk in my stomach to get away. It’s not safe.

I take a deep breath and reach out for the handles to step onto the running board by the passenger door. I shake as I pull myself up, and I know it has nothing to do with fatigue. But I can do this. I’m stronger than this, than some little fear that’s held me back for all these years. Hanging onto the handles is a battle all its own, and my feet want to move of their own accord to jump back down to the ground. I reach out to open the passenger door anyway. I don’t want to drive one of these, not ever, but it’s more than likely that I’ll have to ride in one at some point.

Everything shifts when I touch the door handle and _I’m seven years old again and the world is on fire._

I don’t realize I’ve jumped back until I collide with someone and take us both to the ground. They wrap their arms around me (it’s a man, I realize), like they’re protecting me or sheltering me.

_The glass shattered over me when the ambulance got there and they wrapped their arms around me to get me out of the car._

“You’re burning up,” He whispers, pressing a hand to my forehead. It’s my father. I had almost hoped it was Min. I don’t know if it’s more embarrassing for my father to see me like this or for Min.

_Someone shouts that I’ve got burns and lacerations and a host of other injuries I don’t understand and that they need to go now before I get worse. I whisper Tam’s name in smoky delirium and they go back into the wreckage to find him._

I come out of the memories as quickly as I went into them, shaking and clutching my father’s arm. He notices the change and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “You’re alright.”

We don’t talk about my dreams, either. That’s mostly my choice. I’d prefer they went away, and if I ignore them long enough, they will. I haven’t had an episode like this since I was younger, when even the sound of a satomobile going down the street would send me running. The episodes slowed when I got my bike. I felt safe on it--I still feel safe on it. It’s fast enough to outrun anything, and when we first started running the bikes, loud enough to drown out the noise of the satomobiles around me, even though I still felt the twist of fear in my stomach when I saw them. In this, at least, my father never pushed me.

My breathing returns to normal and he lets me go. I stand up on shaky legs and offer my hands down to help pull him up, more out of politeness than anything. He takes my hands and stands.

I look down at my feet. “I thought everyone was asleep.”

“They are. We were checking the locks. Min told me you weren’t in you room, so I…” He trails off. He came looking for me. I can’t tell if that’s a sign he cares or a sign he doesn’t trust me. “I was worried about you. You’re capable, but I was worried about you. I didn’t know if seeing Asami would...well.”

His eyes flicker up to the truck behind me. I shake my head. “It wasn’t that. I just wanted to see if I’d...made any progress. It’s a matter of time until Amon makes me ride in one. If Min hadn’t been Min, I might’ve had to ride in it tonight. I can’t keep doing this every time I go near a satomobile.”

“You sparked.” He’s gotten so good at his deadpan, working as an advisor. So good, in fact, that his voice doesn’t tremble when he mentions my bending. “You flared up, sparked, whatever you want to call it. I knew something was wrong. I didn’t even think about it. I had to get you.”

It’s a confession that leaves us both staring at each other. Half fatherly concern that shows he still knows the basics of parenting, half admission of a weakness that defines his line between Them and Me. He didn’t think twice when fire flared from me out of my panicked loss of control. It’s a long way from the man who had to look away when I made toast.

He’ll be back to normal tomorrow morning.

He clears his throat after at least half a minute of uncomfortable silence. “Come on, you’d better get back to your room. I’ll walk you.”

We walk in silence. I hug him outside my door and drop my voice to a low whisper. “Don’t wake up Tam when you go back.”

He nods in understanding. I don’t hear him leave until I’ve shut the door behind me and flipped the lock. I find my way to my bunk in the dark. The others are still asleep, from first glance, but when I look across to Min’s bunk, I barely catch the flash of his eyes in the shard of light from the bathroom. I turn my back on him. I’m not angry with him, but this isn’t something I want to talk about. Not even to him. We don’t talk about these things.  


***

  
I dream of my mother. 


	8. The Voice in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the task force now on the move and actively searching for the Equalists, the first real threat to Kirin's way of life emerges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lot of scene changes in this one, lots of setting up for future plotlines, lots of fighting, and lots of me avoiding writing Tarrlok's name because I always forget if there's two 'r's or two 'k's. I apologize for several scenes with clipped show dialogue--if this bothers anyone, I'll start including more of the actual dialogue in instead of glossing over it, but I figured nobody really wants to read a word by word transcription of the show (especially not when I'm so terrible about writing obnoxiously long chapters in the first place).  
> I don't think I have any content warnings for this one.  
> Happy belated 10th birthday to AtLA! (I swear I tried to get this up before midnight on the 21st, I really did.)

“You didn’t even try.”

Min’s voice comes from the other side of the punching bag. His foot slides just a fraction of an inch across the floor when I kick the bag. We’re the only two in here, thankfully. If my father saw me fighting like this, I’m certain I’d be in trouble. It’s traditional firebending, not the street version; it’s what I learned when I was a kid.

“Then you should’ve really put stickers on your shoes, if you’re moving and I’m not trying,” I snap back. Punch head-level, shift weight, kick waist. Min grunts. The task force is on the loose, trying to hunt us down. We have to step up our game, and it feels like I’m the only one taking the threat seriously.

“I meant with Asami.”

I falter, losing my rhythm. He peers around the bag to look at me, but there’s not a shred of innocence in his eyes. He knows exactly what he’s said, and he meant to say it, too. I just shake my head and turn away from him. I hear him sigh. He won’t push me about it (he never pushes me about anything), but he’s still disappointed. He doesn’t get the right to be disappointed. He’s not my father. He’s no one higher ranked than I am. He can sigh and be infuriating all he wants, but that doesn’t mean I have to listen to him.

“I did the best I could.” That’s not entirely a lie, but it’s not entirely true, either. We both know it. He opens his mouth to say something else, to comment on the lie hidden in it. I shake my head and turn away. “ _I did the best I could_ , okay? I’m going to take a shower.”

I leave him to clean up the equipment we dragged out and the scattered food wrappers across the floor. That’s what he gets. He should have known not to bring it up. Maybe he was just trying to look after me, to check if I want to talk about what happened. I wasn’t on my game and he knows it. Maybe that’s it. But somehow, I doubt it was anything more than the fact that I wasn’t on my game and we might have lost ground because of it. Hiroshi’s still working on the mechs for us, so I suppose we haven’t lost anything. But Min’s always aware of the risks. He runs them in his head, checks and balances of what we’re using and what we might lose. He got that from my father.

He stays and cleans up. Or maybe he leaves completely; I’m not sure. All I know is that he doesn’t follow me into the showers. I don’t know who I’m angry at, slamming the door behind me and tearing off training clothes like a whirlwind, if I’m mad at myself for not doing better or mad at him for bringing it up again. I try to tell myself it doesn’t matter, flinging the shower curtain open and slamming the knob to the highest temperature. I should be taking a cold shower. It feels like a miracle that I’m not smoking. The pressure is low and the water’s lukewarm. I wrap my hand around the shower pipe again and in an instant the water’s hot enough to sear my skin. I don’t care. The pressure drops even lower. I hope someone fixes that.

Min and I had our few good weeks of getting along and laughing and joking and being kids. I thought that maybe, just maybe, we could stay like that. Maybe that was who we were meant to be. Friends who laughed at each other’s jokes and weren’t always at each other’s throats; the kind of friendship Lee and I pretend to have. But this is who we are. Two idiotic, stubborn, proud leaders. We’ll never get along. Not like we should.

I turn the water off, what little is coming out, still fuming. I shouldn’t be this angry. I knew that this was coming. Still, it’s something automatic. Maybe if we had been normal, I wouldn’t be here, skin running so hot that the water steams off of me. Or maybe this is how we were always meant to turn out.

I’m met with a pair of bright green eyes as soon as I pull the curtain back.

“Spirits, Lee!” I shriek, already swinging out of reflex to hit him. It’s a solid punch to his jaw, but all he does is rub the spot and roll his eyes. He’ll have a bruise tomorrow. “Didn’t anyone teach you not to do that to a girl?!”

“Pipes aren’t working in here,” is all he says in explanation, stepping past me and into the shower stall. “Your dad sent me.”

Dad gets stuck doing a lot of maintenance. He knows machines. Or, really, he knows cars, and figures out whatever he needs to fix things. He usually recruits Lee to help. Lee has a mind for machines. And, occasionally, a mind for plumbing.

“It’s about time. That one’s barely putting any water out at all,” I call over my shoulder as I dress.

I hear him make a noise of confusion, and glance back to look at him, one shoe on. He waves me over silently. I drop the boot in my hand and go back, peering into the stall. He only points at the pipe in silent explanation. It takes a few moments before I see what’s wrong, but then it hits me like a brick: the pipe is half-melted into the shape of my hand.

“There’s why,” He says, as if it weren’t perfectly obvious that I’ve broken this shower and I didn’t even notice. Has anyone else seen it? As far as I know, I’m the only one who’s used this shower, but I’m not in the training room or watching the showers all the time. Anyone could have spotted it if they looked to see what was wrong. Or maybe Lee just knew what he was looking for.

My mouth is dry and I have to swallow before I can speak. “The water’s been cold. I didn’t think it would do this.”

“It’s only insulated from the inside, against the water. And even then, there’s no telling if you’ve melted through the insulation.” He sighs, one hand coming up to cup his chin as he studies the pipe. I don’t have the heart to tell him that he, too, is starting to look like my father. “We might have to scrap this one completely. I don’t know where we’ll get another one...we’ll need funds, and they aren’t cheap. We should have accounted for this. These were going to go out eventually, with or without you. They need more regular maintenance than we have.”

I reach out to take the pipe, but he shakes his head, pulling it back from me. “Kirin--”

“I have an idea, just…” I make grabby hands at him, and he shakes his head, even as he hands me the pipe. “Trust me.”

He looks at me with a raised brow. He doesn’t trust me, but for entirely different reasons than Min. Right there in my hands is the proof of how easily I can lose control and not realize the damage I’ve done. But I miss Lee, the old Lee, the Lee I used to sneak out with and eat leftovers from restaurants that had a soft spot for a pair of homeless kids. Especially now that Min and I are back to moving in opposite directions.

All I can do is superheat the metal until it’s malleable again. As it turns red under my hands and starts to sting my palms, Lee realizes what I’m trying to do. He pulls a length of smaller pipe out of the bag he dropped on the floor, threading the smaller pipe through the one I hold, pushing the still-malleable metal back into shape. It’s an improvised solution, but as the metal starts to cool, we realize it’s worked. He pulls the smaller pipe free with no small amount of effort, and drops it back into his bag before setting about reconnecting the previously broken pipe to the rest of the shower.

“That was...good thinking,” He doesn’t compliment me often, especially not when we’re on the outs like we have been. It’s a small step back towards reconciliation. “Thanks.” 

I don’t really know how to respond to that. I never have. So I just nod at his back as he keeps working and leave, as quietly as I can.

Kal catches me in the hallway by the arm on the way to the cafeteria. She hands me a tray of food and shakes her head. “It’s a wreck in there. Everyone’s freaking out over the task force. I thought we’d eat in the room? Maybe...go with Tam?”

I wince. I’ve been on the outs with Tam, too, ever since I put a stop to his training. He won’t even look at me in the halls when we pass. It’s a long way from the little boy with the bright blue eyes who’d nearly run me over to hug me.

Kal, of course, catches the wince. I need to get less observant friends. She links her arm through mine and marches me down to dad and Tam’s room. “He’s your brother, Kirin. And he’s only ten. You need to spend more time with him.”

I definitely need to get less observant friends.

Tam sits hunched over his desk, hard at work on a drawing. I let myself hope for a moment that it’s another portrait of Asami, or maybe one of Kal or even dad. But the red and the black are too vivid. It’s more propaganda. My little brother, who always took Amon’s teachings with a grain of salt, now so engrossed in art to promote the man that he doesn’t look up until Kal touches his shoulder. He blinks at her, the fuzz of artistic stupor fading from his eyes, and then he beams. Tam has never just smiled. He’s always beamed. Lights up a room. Just like our mother.

Kal balances the tray of food in her hand as she unfolds the card table. She’s always been more of a dancer or a gymnast. I don’t think I could do it without dumping the food all over myself.

“What’re you working on today, Tam?” She asks as we all sit down around the table, Tam and I awkwardly picking at our food in true sibling solidarity. When he only shrugs, Kal’s shoulders slump slightly. She scoops a piece of fish off her plate. “You two will have to talk eventually.”

“I don’t want to talk to _her_ ,” Tam’s bottom lip sticks out into a pout.

For a split second, I want to shake him until he realizes I’m only doing what’s best for him, that he’ll understand when he’s older. Then, as he sullenly continues to eat, stabbing his fish with a bit more vigor than is necessary, I remember. He’s only ten.

I take a deep breath. “Tam, listen. I’m sorry about getting angry with you over the physical training. I wasn’t...angry with you. I was angry with dad, and I guess I took it out on you.”

“Does that mean I can start doing it again?”

“No.”

The hopeful look falls right off of his face. He puts his tray in his lap and, as best a boy in a wheelchair can do, storms out of the room in silence. I drop my head into my arms and scream, muffled against my sleeve.

When I look back up, Kal is still sitting beside of me, quietly eating. She covers her mouth with her hand when she speaks. “That could have gone better.”

It’s all I can do not to throw something at her.

***

We listen to the radios with baited breath, always waiting and dreading the reports of the task force’s movements. They haven’t moved against us yet, but that only makes me more nervous. The longer they wait, the more time they have to train. The better trained they are, the more of a chance they have of actually damaging us. Amon tells us not to worry. But my father spends more and more times in meetings, and the drills he puts us through in training aren’t just regular drills. They’re defensive more than they are offensive, getting out of situations fast, avoiding being hit in the first place as opposed to how to recover from being hit...training we’ve done before, but less intensely. There has always been less fire in my father’s eyes when he teaches it. The same edge in his voice when he corrects me, but there’s something else there. Something, if I didn’t know better, I’d call parental concern. He’s probably only worried about what the cops would be able to get out of me if they caught me. I know too much to risk losing. Outside of the compound, with this amount of opposition springing up, I’m a liability. He is too, of course, but I can tell how he sees it: an advisor is much less likely to be caught than a teenager. Nevermind that he’s only been training a few years more than I have.

Kal and I lean side by side against the wall of the training pit, passing the water bottle back and forth. She always forgets hers. Sometimes I wonder if it’s on purpose.

“It’s been two weeks,” I shake my head as a recruit flies halfway across the mats. He’s had the unfortunate luck of being the odd man out in terms of partnering off. He has my father for today. “They should have it by now.”

Kal wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Relax, Kir. They’re new. Not everyone picks up on this stuff as fast as you do.”

That’s only partly true, and it’s rich, coming from her. If anyone around here picks up on drills and combat faster than I do, it’s Kal. She picks up on it way before Min, and it’s always a few rounds before I’m holding my own against her. She’s sweet and gentle, even in practice, and she belongs safely tucked away, working in the infirmary. But if the worst should happen and everything goes upside down, they’d put her on the front lines in an instant.

Besides, recruit or not, it’s only a matter of time before the task force comes. We all have to know what we’re doing. Maybe even especially the recruits.

“Kirin!” Dad rounds on me as the recruit struggles to his feet. He motions for me to come back onto the mats, so I leave the water bottle with Kal and make my way over. “Help me demonstrate.”

I wonder if he catches the eye rolls, or if they go over his head. I see them. They think I’m demonstrating because I’m his daughter--here, with the lights shading his cheekbones and both of us with our hair pulled back into ponytails and the same set of our shoulders, we look more alike than we ever do normally. They don’t think I’m any better than they are. This isn’t about teaching them how to escape a situation anymore. This is a test, whether my father knows it or not.

I take a few steps back from him and shift my weight. This all depends on being able to move, holding yourself on the balls of your feet and keeping your balance. Lose it getting off a cycle and you’re dead. He’s offensive. Fire, some mix of the real stuff and the metaphorical, heats my skin, and I’m glad for once that I’ve got my gloves.

He doesn’t hold back. He never has. Swinging high towards my head. I tumble across the mat, under his arm. Foot connects with my ribs. Tumbling sideways and then I’m on my feet again and then there’s a fist coming for my stomach and then I’m moving, electricity in my veins and fire in my skin, and I’m not myself, not human, just motion. Left, down, he’s not letting up, kicks and punches almost faster than I can move, but I’m ahead, even if barely, and then there’s a slip in his guard and I’m in, dropping out of the way of one punch and pulling his leg out from under him when his shifts his weight to kick at me and then he’s on the ground and I’m bolting for the other end of the mat.

There’s a roaring in my ears that, the longer I hold still and breathe for, the more I realize is my heart and the utter silence of the room. For a long moment, no one seems to be moving or breathing, eyes either locked on me or locked on my father as he stands. He blinks and looks around as if he’s confused. His eyes finally land on me and he smiles, a real smile, not the one he forces or the grimace he usually wears. A real smile. Real pride in his eyes.

He nods, almost imperceptibly, but there is enough lightning in my veins that I catch every little movement everyone makes. The nod says more than I think he realizes it does; I can hear him in my head, “I’m proud of you, Kirin; you’ve done better than I expected”, without him ever opening his mouth. That’s what the nod says.

He shifts back to the others, folding his arms behind his back. “That is how you escape a situation! You’re dismissed for now, but after dinner, come back here, there’s more work to do!”

Kal flips a thumbs up as I head back over to her. She doesn’t put up a fight when I snatch the water bottle out of her hands and chug half of what’s left in it. Water puts out fires, I tell myself, but not even ice water can make me hold still. I bounce and rock on the balls of my feet. Kal used to do that when we were kids. She doesn’t do it anymore. Now her hands are always busy, twisting her bracelet or playing with a strand of hair or waving wildly when she tells stories.

“The newbies are pissed,” She grins. “Did you see their faces when they left? I mean, they’re terrified of you, probably--I’m a little scared of you after that! But they’re so mad. Taking it personally, or something.”

I saw their faces when they left. They’re angry and they’re scared. If I could beat my father, there was no chance they could ever hold their own against me. After this, there’s just one person I can’t beat.

Dad’s hand drops to my shoulder and I turn to look at him. He’s still smiling. I almost laugh with the strange energy bubbling in me, but manage to hold onto a grin instead.

“That was good,” He says. Good. Not great, but good. I am good. “Better not let Amon know about that; he might replace me with you. Go get dinner.”

I force myself to nod and say some kind of “thank you”, and then Kal and I are pulling ourselves out of the pit, and then we’re in the hallway, and we look at each other, and the same energy in me is reflected in her eyes and we’re sprinting at full speed down the halls, making hairpin turns and dodging carts or pipes or piles of clothes, heads thrown back and hair flying and laughing like we’re wild, because we are. Kal and I were never meant for underground cages.

For a moment, it hits me. One day, and one day soon at the rate we’re going, we won’t be kept in an underground cage. We won’t have to stay in these tunnels forever. We’ll be able to walk around the city and go wherever we want. We can race for blocks if we want. We won’t have to hide. The city will be ours.

That’s almost as intoxicating of a thought as beating my father in a fight.

Kal crashes into her mother’s arms in the kitchen, still laughing and giggling. Her father catches my arm to stop me from running into one of the prep tables. I don’t know their names, not even after all these years. They’ve never really left the kitchens. They owned a restaurant before they came here, I know that; it was her grandmother’s, and then her mother’s, and it was supposed to be Kal’s, until some business mogul bought them out and knocked it down. Kal was a baby and they didn’t know how they were going to feed her. Then Amon found them somehow, and all four of them came down. Her grandmother doesn’t do much now. She’s mostly blind. Before her eyes went, though, she looked after the babies. She still does, but there’s young mothers who help her out. It’s stunning, sometimes. Not everyone down here is a full-blooded Equalist. Some of them are just refugees looking for protection from a city built against them. And we provide whatever they need.

Kal and Lee are some of the few who still have both their parents alive, and Kal is unique in that her whole family is here. Her parents were always more overbearing and loving than Lee’s were. But knowing what I know now about Lee, I can understand it. Kal’s family is here because they wanted her to have a future. Lee’s family is here because they gave up on making a new future for themselves.

Kal jabbers to her mother, barely pausing for breath, at a speed it’s taken me this long to be able to comprehend. I hear her voice, but I don’t really listen to her. She’s talking about practice. About me and my father. Her parents praise me and pat my back. It all flows through me. It happens but I don’t really notice it happening.

“Well, since you two seem to have so much energy, why don’t you run an errand for us?” Her mother winks good-naturedly. She pulls a metal lunchbox out from one of the iceboxes. “Yuki’s got a training group down in Dragon Flats, but she left her dinner. And her lunch, but we already threw that out, and I want to be sure she eats at least one meal. You two know where the training space is?”

A bookstore basement, I think. We look at each other and I nod, and then Kal nods to her mother. As long as I know where we’re going, we’re fine. Kal goes where I lead.

“Run this over to her and then come right back. We’ll save you both a tray.” Her mother kisses us both on our foreheads. My shoulders tense, but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Be careful.”

She says that no matter when it is. It could be the middle of the day and we could be going out to a grocery run (which we do), and she’ll still tell us to be careful. Kal makes a face at me as soon as both their backs are turned and we’re heading back down the hall.

“Are you okay? I saw you sort of…” She scrunches her shoulders up in an over-exaggeration of me. “When she kissed you.”

I nod. I can’t explain why women like Kal’s mother, so open with their affection, make me uncomfortable. My mother was an affectionate woman. Yuki is not. But I prefer Yuki to Kal’s mom, if I had to pick one of them.

Lee and Min meet us at one of the crossroads, Min coming from the offices and Lee coming from the tech hall. Min and I look at each other for a second, and then we both make a point of not looking back. Kal sees it, like she sees everything. I feel her sigh beside of me, more than I hear it. We were all doing so good for a bit.

“Are you two going up?” Lee’s brows pull together in confusion. The sun has to be down by now. Curfew isn’t for another few hours, but there’s been an unspoken rule that no one goes up after sundown. That’s when the task force moves.

Kal holds up the lunchbox in explanation. “Just to Dragon Flats. Yuki left her dinner, we got caught running in the halls, so my parents threw us out.”

We’ve got a tunnel that comes up a block out from Dragon Flats. It’s not far to walk, and there’s more dangerous places we could be going, really. Lee seems to realize that and nods.

Min rolls his shoulders, but I catch a second of confusion or maybe even worry in his face. Is this the first time Yuki’s forgotten her food? Or is the problem that she keeps forgetting it?

“I’ll come.” He says it so fast, and then furrows his brow, and I’m not sure he realized he actually said it. “I’ve been in with the main guards all day, doing strategy meetings and drills and ugh. I need to move.”

The main guards are the rest of Amon’s personal guard, the ones who go with him and stand with him every time he makes an appearance. The ones who never have to take crowd control. He and I would be idiots if we didn’t realize we were being groomed to join them. Our training schedules have been bumped up ever since the reassignments. The only difference is that he got a secondary schedule of strategy. I just learn how to fight.

Kal shrugs. “You can come if you two don’t tear each other’s throats out. Lee and I don’t want to clean that up.”

Lee grins. Sometimes I swear that Kal is two different people when she’s alone with me and when we’re in the group.

Lee doesn’t even ask to come along, he just slides in with us and then we’re all going again, him and Min chattering about some kind of new technology to interrupt the radio broadcasts and Kal and I rolling our eyes at the two of them. We’re only quiet for the time it takes us to get up the ladder and onto the street. The boys are too wrapped up in whatever they’re talking about to notice, but she and I both take deep breaths. The air is cold enough to sting our lungs, but for right now, we don’t care. It’s fresh air. It’s a city that’s ours, so long as we keep our noses clean. She looks at me and I look at her and it’s all either of us can do not to take off sprinting again. She loops her arm through mine as if I’ll hold her still.

Sometimes, when you step out into something that you don’t expect, it takes time for you to realize that something’s wrong. You expect one thing, and you don’t realize that what you’re seeing isn’t what you expect. Kal got hurt one time when we were kids and I was convinced that she’d broken her arm doing a flip, and I kept rushing around Yuki’s office, trying to help with her arm. It wasn’t until Yuki stopped me and made me look at Kal that I realized she had a gash on her forehead. I saw what I expected. And in the first few moments that we stand on the street level, breathing and talking, we hear what we expect. The roar of the streets. Horns honking. An alarm going off somewhere. People laughing and talking. The sirens don’t register at first.

When they do, it registers with all of us at once, and we turn to look at each other, mouths open. And then I’m letting go of Kal’s arm and all four of us are sprinting.

Dragon Flats is a predominantly non-bending borough. We have a decent base of operations there, and more than one safe house. We sealed up the tunnels that opened into Dragon Flats a while ago, though. Amon’s idea. He knew that when we gained momentum, they’d first look for us in Dragon Flats. We weren’t going to leave any chance that they could get directly to us.

And, being a non-bending borough, there’s a high crime rate, high poverty rates. It’s not the slums, not quite, but it’s always teetered on the border. Triads come through and make an easy buck mugging people, or they run a new extortion game. The shopkeepers get it especially rough, just like they do everywhere else. All that considered, police sirens aren’t necessarily out of place. But these are different. They don’t sound different or anything like that, but it’s like we can all feel it in the air. Taste it when we breathe. These sirens are dangerous. This isn’t normal.

We turn the last corner, hearts hammering in our mouths, and freeze when we see the reporters and the task force truck and all the policemen outfitted to the gills and the Avatar in the middle of them, standing over Yuki in her uniform and others I don’t know the names of like they were some kind of prized animal in a hunt. Kal drops the lunchbox and it clatters to the ground. That’s enough to catch Yuki’s attention. Her eyes lock on the four of us and I’ve never seen such pure terror, not in her, not in anyone. The reporters and even the task force are oblivious to us.

Time speeds up and slows down simultaneously. The lunchbox hits the ground. Yuki sees us. Min lunges forward with a strangled shout of “mom”. The task force sees us. Lee and I are grabbing at Min and pulling him back, trying to get through to him that we have to go, we can’t fight all of them. Flashbulbs are going off again. The councilman yells something. Then we’re sprinting, running, half-dragging Min away, the lunchbox left forgotten in the street, at least one task force member on our heels. Probably more than one. I can’t risk looking back and losing my rhythm.

We’re running deeper into the borough, I realize. We can’t lead them back to the tunnels. This is the only way we can go. If we make it clear through the borough, lose them somewhere in the alleys, we could get away, but that’s a long way to keep up this pace, and we’re already starting to pant. We won’t make it. We have to go back the way we came.

We duck into an alleyway for a moment to breathe and the goons (five of them) runs past us. They’ll double back.

Lee and I have been able to communicate without speaking since we were children. He looks at me and I look at him, jerking my head back towards the back of the alley. He shakes his head. I can already hear heavy boots on the ground coming back for us.

“I’ll be fine,” I hiss. “Double back the way we came. Tell my dad what happened. Don’t stop running until you get there. Seal the tunnel. I’ll find another way in.”

The next entrance isn’t for miles. Out of the borough. Lee knows that. The boots are louder.

It’s not Lee who listens to me. It’s Kal. She grabs Lee’s arm and starts pulling him, towards the back of the alley, back towards where they can hide until I’ve led the danger away. Lee looks down at her but she stares right back, brown eyes narrowed until I half expect her to start breathing fire, and then they’re moving, dragging Min with them. I burst out of the alley seconds before the five policemen come into view. I hold still until I’m sure they’ve seen me clear enough to know who I am and to know I’m alone, poised on my toes, and then I’m sprinting again.

I don’t know how long I run. It must be a fair amount of time. I can only hope it’s long enough for the others to sneak back. It’s long enough for the police to grow tired of trying to run me down. The hair on the back of my neck prickles and then I’m jumping, seconds before a cable slams into the ground. The chase is over. Now it’s my turn to escape.

I slam through the door of the first building when I turn the corner. An apartment building. I’m sprinting up the stairs, two steps at a time, then three, feet barely touching the ground, even on the landing floors in between--

And then something’s got my arm and I’m being dragged. There’s a hand over my mouth.

I’m only dragged inside of an apartment. It’s a middle aged woman who has me, and a younger woman I can only assume to be her daughter shuts and locks the door behind us. I can hear boots thundering on the steps outside.

“You’re an Equalist?” The middle-aged woman demands, bony fingers wrapped so tightly around my wrists that I couldn’t run, even if I wanted to. The apartment doesn’t have any windows. There’s nowhere for me to run.

A girl a few years younger than I am and a boy years younger than her peek out of one of the side rooms. The woman shakes me until I nod. Then the girl and the boy run out of their room, and an old man jumps off the couch with surprising grace for someone his age. They’re all bundling me under the under the couch. It’s barely enough space. I have to fold my legs sideways and turn my head to keep my feet from poking out and from breaking my nose. The boy lifts the ruffle along the bottom of the couch, the only thing hiding me from prying eyes, and presses a finger to his lips.

“Where’s her stomach?” The girl asks somewhere beyond. Someone pulls the boy away. The older woman gives some sort of answer that I can’t make out with one ear pressed into the ground and one ear in the couch, but then the couch sags slightly above my stomach, and I realize why the girl was asking.

I lift the ruffle to peek out. The old man has moved to the armchair, head tilted down on his chest in feigned sleep. The grandmother and her daughter bang around with pots and pans, out of eyesight. The boy hurriedly turns the radio on and lays down in the carpet not too far from me, running a toy train across the bumps in the floor.

I don’t know how long we stay like this. It feels like hours but it could be minutes. Then, finally, there’s a knock on the door. I hold my breath and drop the ruffle.

It’s the younger woman who unlocks and opens the door. For a moment, I’m worried the panic in her voice is real. “O-officer? Is something wrong?”

“We’re with the anti-Equalist task force. We have reason to believe that an Equalist is hiding in this building. We’re checking all the apartments.” To my surprise, it’s a woman’s gruff voice. Not the police chief. Still, knowing the councilman, I’m admittedly surprised.

The door creaks when it swings fully open. “Oh, come in! We locked the door when we heard running. Sometimes we get thieves through here, and--oh, would any of you like something to eat? We’ve only just started cooking, but I’m sure we could find something for you!”

Five sets of heavy boots crowd into the apartment. The woman is smart, I’ll admit that. They’re less inclined to do a full check if she acts like nothing’s wrong. Especially not with this many people in one apartment. It’s not a big space. They’ve positioned themselves to make it feel as small as possible. They’ve got this down to a system. I’m impressed.

“No, thank you, ma’am. We’ll only be a moment.” The policewoman’s still polite. The boots start to spread out. They’re so loud from the floor that I worry I’ll go deaf.

The banging in the kitchen resumes, and I assume that the young woman’s gone back to cooking with her mother. The boy runs his train over the girl’s foot and she yells at him not to do it again. The grandfather snores. Doors open and slam shut, and I hear furniture sliding across the floor. Beds. They’re checking under beds. It’s another few minutes of eternity before all the boots thud back into the living room. Four different responses to the group’s captain of “nothing”. Someone stands too close to the back of the couch. Then they’re kneeling, one hand starting to curl around the ruffle--

“Wan.” The woman captain’s voice cuts like a knife. The hand drops away from the ruffle. Wan stands back up. “It’s clear. Sorry for the intrusion, folks. You’ve been very helpful. I do ask that you lock the door behind us. Have a nice night.”

“Of course!” The young woman exclaims. The door shuts. I hear the lock click into place. The cooking continues. My heart slows down.

It’s ten minutes before they all drop the act and help me get out from under the couch. The girl stares at me and the boy hides behind her leg. The mother rolls her eyes. “You two know it’s rude to stare. Have you eaten, dear? We set a place for you.”

My stomach rumbles in answer, and the mother laughs. The others smile in silence. It’s...disconcerting. But they saved me from the task force, and I’m trapped in their apartment until the task force clears out. No choice but to get used to it.

The “place” they set for me turns out to be a bowl of noodles slurped down on the end of the couch, crowded together with the boy and the girl. It’s strange and awkward, especially with the radio drama playing absently in the background, even though none of us are listening to it. The boy keeps sneaking glances at me, and the girl seems like she’s doing her best not to look at me.

Then, finally, she breaks the silence. “What did you do? Why were you running?”

“Aya,” Her mother whispers, reaching out to touch her arm. I can only assume that’s the girl’s name. “You know it’s rude to ask guests things like that.”

If it is, I’ve never heard that. Any guest in the tunnels is subject to interrogation. Even if you aren’t a guest, but you go somewhere and come back, you’re subject to interrogation. Then again, I guess polite society doesn’t really apply to us.

“No, it’s fine. My...some friends and I were walking, and my friend’s mother was being arrested by the task force. They...spotted us, so we ran. I separated from my friends to lead the police away. I’m sorry I caused you trouble.” I poke at the noodles in my bowl, suddenly sheepish under Aya’s eyes and her mother’s soft gaze.

“It was no trouble to us at all. You got very lucky, running in here,” The mother cracks a smile. “The whole building sympathizes. Anyone here would have hidden you.”

I’m struck, suddenly, by truly how lucky I am. I had been trying to get to the roof, to lose them up there, but...anyone could have grabbed me. This could have been any building. This place could have been swarming with Triads or the non-benders who like to blame us for all their problems, who would have turned me over without a second thought. But   
the probability of me running into a building populated solely by sympathizers...it’s a one in a million shot. And it happened.

Aya turns to her mother with fire in her eyes. “Her friend’s mother was an Equalist, too, mom! A family!”

“There are lots of families. Two of my friends have both their parents, and all three are Equalists. My father, brother, and I are. There are more, of course, a lot more. It’s not unusual for a whole family to--” I only stop talking when I catch the sharp look Aya’s mother is giving me. Sympathizers, but ones with no intention of joining. No. It’s more than that. There’s something else in the look.

“That’s enough, Aya. Not in front of the guest.” Her voice is final. I can’t remember my mother ever using that tone. There’s a lot of things about my mother’s voice I don’t remember. “I’m sorry, you must think us terribly rude. This is my daughter, Aya, and my son, Tai. Grandmother and pops. I’m Rina.”

“Kirin.” Introducing myself alone feels strange, compared to the list of names Rina’s rattled off. Tai and Tam. Tai would drive Tam up the walls with his toy truck.  
I hope the others are alright. Surely they’re back by now. Surely my father is on his way to tear the city apart looking for me.

We fall back into silence as we all continue eating, the radio droning on. The bulletin plays twice that the task force conducted a “successful raid on a hotspot of Equalist activity”. I notice that they don’t mention any Equalists being left at large. I don’t know if I’m relieved or offended that we didn’t garner a spot on the news.

Tai’s bedtime comes early, and with it, the rest of us go to sleep as well. I help with the dishes. Rina turns off all the lights after she’s finished setting me up on the couch for the night (I’m not sure when it was decided that I was spending the night here, but I’m too exhausted to protest) and tucked Tai in. She lights a single candle from the kitchen to help the others see their way back to their rooms. She and I sit alone on opposite ends of the couch for a few long minutes before she speaks.

“Don’t...think any less of us because we can’t join. Aya wants to, but...she’s thirteen. She’s too young to be fighting and running from the police. Maybe that’s the life she’ll have anyway, but it’s not the life I’m going to choose for her. When she’s your age, if this is still happening, she can do what she wants, but for now..” Rina takes a deep breath. She reaches over to hesitantly take my hand, and I can’t meet her eyes, even though I feel them on me, pleading. “My husband left us to join the Equalists. We haven’t seen him in six years. I thought it was a lost cause then. Aya wants to find him, thinks that if she joins, it’ll fix things. You’re young, so I don’t expect you to understand.”

I do understand, and it takes the air out of my lungs for a few seconds. We take everyone in the tunnels, with relatively few questions asked, whether they come to us destitute or offering money. Even having looked at Tai and Aya for the better part of the night, I couldn’t find their father, nor would I want to. I have no sympathy for anyone who abandons their family so completely. Not even for the Equalists.

“No, I...I couldn’t think any less of you all. Not after you’ve done all this for me,” I shake my head and squeeze her hand, trying to be reassuring. It’s true, at least. Until now, it had been an assumption that any non-bender who claimed to support us but didn’t join were really enemies. They had gone through what we had, and they chose not to change it, which meant they were holding us back. It’s easy to judge when it’s people like the ones who came to the Revelation, who thought that being an Equalist was like being in a school group. But it’s much harder when Tai and Aya sleep in another room, crowded together in a too-small bed that they’ll share with Rina when she goes to bed.

Rina smiles at me and touches my cheek, looking at me almost reverently. It sends a strange chill down my spine. Being an Equalist has never been cause for admiration. It’s been cause for running for my life.

She doesn’t say anymore, instead standing and silently going to her room. I lie on the couch and stare at the ceiling in the darkness for a few more hours, listening to the building settle around me, before I manage to fall asleep.

***

I dream of my mother and of Yuki. They sit together on the steps of the house I lived in before Tam was born. They do not speak when I come up the walk. They only stare at me in silent condemnation. This is my fault.

***

I wake in a cold sweat before the sun has come into the room. I tell myself that Yuki isn’t dead, over and over again, but the thought is there.

I must drift off again at some point, because when I wake up, the whole apartment smells like toast and jam. Tai and Aya sit in the floor across from me eating. Grandmother and Pops are nowhere to be found. I don’t see her, but someone is bumping around in the kid’s bedroom, and I can only assume it’s Rina.

Aya is the first to notice I’m awake, speaking through a mouthful of toast. “Morning, sleepyhead. There’s a serving for you on the counter.”

I shuffle across the floor to get the plate off the counter and then shuffle back to the couch. I can still see Yuki staring at me so vividly from the porch. But she isn’t dead. She can’t be. They wouldn’t kill her--they couldn’t kill her, could they? Not if she was a prisoner. That’s illegal.

Rina finally comes out of the room, pausing only to kiss Aya and Tai on the tops of their heads. She smiles when she sees me awake. “Oh, good. You’re up. I’m leaving for work. The streets are clear; you can head home whenever you want, no danger. But I...have a small favor to ask of you.”

I nod mutely, still chewing on a piece of toast. She touches my shoulder, already heading towards the door. “Take a message to Amon. Tell him not to forget the people of Dragon Flats.”

And then Rina’s gone, out the door and I can hear her rushing down the stairs just as clearly as I can hear the trolley coming down the street. She must work in a factory, if she’s rushing to catch the trolley. Those go to the factory districts, into the heart of the city. I don’t know what she does, though, unless she’s on a Future Industries assembly line. All the other factories usually only hire benders.

Tai and Aya finish eating and go to get dressed for school. I pick up their plates and head for the kitchen to wash the dishes. Aya comes back out as soon as I turn the water on, but I just press my finger to my lips, and she grins, before ducking back into her room.

They’re dressed and ready by the time I’ve finished washing the plates. I still haven’t seen any sign of their grandparents.

As if reading my mind, Aya shrugs, picking up her backpack. “They already left for work. They start early so they can be home when we get back from school. You coming?”

She grabs Tai’s hand and half-drags him out the door, with me trailing behind. I feel eyes on me the whole way down the stairs. I square my shoulders, half expecting someone to yell or throw something at me.

“You can relax,” Aya scoffs, elbowing me. “People heard there was an Equalist in the building. They all wanted to see you. You’d think you were the Avatar, from the way they’re acting.”

She rolls her eyes and I look at her again. She seems so much older than thirteen. Positioned so she can shelter Tai, keeping herself one step ahead of him going down the stairs--I wonder if she even notices she’s doing it, or if it’s so instinctive at this point, she has no idea. She’s a protector. He looks at her like she’s everything in the world to him. If their father left six years ago, she probably is everything. He can’t be more than six himself.

She lets go of his hand once we’re out of the building, but he only runs a few feet before stopping, realizing that she and I are still standing at the door. She shifts from foot to foot, eyes darting around.

“It was...nice to meet you. I know my mom already asked you something, but--” She sighs and digs into her pocket, pulling out a folded and worn piece of paper. “Will you take a message for me, too?”

She keeps thrusting the paper until I take it and unfold it. It’s a family picture. Well, an old family picture; Tai isn’t in it, nor are her grandparents. She’s a child, standing between a heavily pregnant Rina and a vaguely-familiar looking man. Her father. She and Tai look like Rina, not him. It’s obvious enough what she wants from me.

When I look back up, though, she and Tai are gone, running around the corner of the street. I could catch up to them if I really wanted to. Instead, I tuck the picture into my pocket and head towards the next entrance to the tunnels. It’s a good few hours’ walk spent with my head down and hands in my pockets. I nab a hat from a shopping bag left unattended by a mother for the pursuit of a child grown wild with the icy weather. That helps cover my face a little. I’m not sure if the police saw me well enough in the chase last night to make wanted posters, but I still don’t want to risk being seen and hauled off, not when I’m so close to getting home.

I close and lock the trap door above me, one arm clinging to the ladder for balance. It’s useless, though, because as soon as my feet hit the ground, someone slams me back against the wall.

“You made it! We were so worried when you didn’t get back last night, and--” Kal lets go of me to take a step back and speak into her radio, given me a moment to recover from the violence of the hug. “Lee, I’ve got her, she came in on west fourteenth!”

“Tell her I’m going to kill her,” Crackles across in response. I smile.

“Where’s he at?” I lean over against Kal as she reattaches herself to my side, one arm wrapped around my waist and the other shoving a thermos of hot chocolate into my hands. With the toast being all that I’ve had today, it’s the best drink I’ve ever had.

She shrugs. “I’m not really sure. When you didn’t come back, he and I split up, rotated through all the entrances this side of Dragon Flats. I’m not totally sure where he’s at now. But he’ll meet us at the offices. Min’s under house arrest--they don’t want him doing anything stupid. He’s got a guard and they’re keeping him in the room. Your dad went to try and post bail for Yuki, but they wouldn’t let him, since she’s not a normal arrest, and they almost arrested him. He’s fine. He and Amon are scheming now to get everyone back, or at least get her back. All the advisors are in there.”

“I need to talk to Amon,” I blurt it out without thinking. She only nods, not even looking up at me, not even questioning why I suddenly need to see him, when I’ve done everything to avoid him.

“That’s good. He needs to talk to you. Everyone wants to know where you went,” She ducks her head, voice quiet. “I assumed you went back to the island.”

Back to my mother’s home. “No, I...I just ran. There was an apartment building, and a family let me spend the night with them. They hid me and everything. Lit out a few hours ago.”

Lee catches up to us at that point, talking into his radio. He wraps one arm around my shoulders and pulls me into a hug. He drops a kiss on my forehead. I punch his shoulder. He doesn’t even crack a smile; there are dark circles under his eyes. There are circles under Kal’s eyes, too, when I really look at her. I guess neither of them actually slept in all their looking for me. Guilt twinges in my stomach.

“Hope you got more sleep than we did, you’re in for a long day. Amon wants you in his office, and the advisors have you on the chopping block for not coming home,” He rolls his eyes and half-drags me after him and down the halls. “That scrawny one suggested that you sold us out and that’s why you aren’t coming back. I’m hoping I shut him up when I told them all you were here.”

“Kal said Min’s under house arrest--how’s he taking that?” Hopefully better than I’m taking all this information at once. My head’s starting to spin. I should’ve stopped for lunch. I just need to breathe and compartmentalize all of this. Just breathe.

“As well as you can imagine.” Lee purses his lips. I’ll take that to mean he’s probably wrecked the room. Great.

We don’t even stop to knock on the office door. All three of us barge in. The conversation stops short and everyone freezes for a few seconds, long enough for me to get a good survey of the room. The Lieutenant is pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He does that when he’s getting a headache. His hair is coming out of its ponytail, as well, suggesting that the meeting has been dragging on for a few hours. Amon stands with his back to the group, staring at the maps on the walls. No telling what he’s thinking. Plotting, maybe. The advisor accusing me of being a traitor stares at me, jaw clenched. It’s the one I yelled at the last time I stormed into an advisor meeting. One’s red faced. Another’s slumped with his head in his hands. Yuki’s chair is conspicuously empty.

“Lee, Kalea, go get Min from your room,” The Lieutenant looks up, finally making eye contact with me. One of the other advisors opens his mouth to speak, but the Lieutenant raises his voice to cut him off. “It’s his mother, he deserves to be here! Kirin, you stay. Entertain us with where you’ve been.”

Lee and Kal were gone as soon as he said their names. I shift to stand straighter as everyone turns to look at me. I haven’t had to do a proper report in ages, but from the looks on some of the faces, they won’t notice.

“Yuki left her dinner here, and we were asked to take it to her. When we got there, the task force was already there and arresting people. We...dropped the lunchbox, which caught their attention.” No need for anyone to know that it was Min who got us caught. “We ran from them for a few blocks, at which point I sent Lee, Kal, and Min back here, and kept going on my own. I thought we’d be less of a target together. I kept running. I went into an apartment building. There was a family there that hid me and let me stay with them. They said that the entire building was sympathizers. And the mother gave me a message to deliver to Amon.”

I run my thumb over the edge of the picture in my pocket. Aya’s father isn’t in here. If he is, he’s changed more than I’d expect.

It takes a few deep breaths and steeling my nerves before I can meet Amon’s eyes. I am not afraid of him. He’s only human. He nods, ever so slightly, for me to go on. “She told me to tell you not to forget about the people of Dragon Flats. Some of them support us with all they have, but they are afraid to join, for their children’s sake or because they fear the police. But she asked me not to judge them for that. They’d be here if they could, and they still stand with us.”

The words choke off in my throat and I have to look away. Only a man and I am not afraid. The door opens again behind me, and there’s a feather-light touch on my arm. I look up to Min and almost wish I hadn’t. The darkness isn’t just bags underneath his eyes, it’s in his eyes, a fervent...anger, violence, boiling in him. Not angry with me. Just...angry.

“Are you bringing her back?” He asks, turning away from me and to the council. They look away under his eyes, except the Lieutenant and Amon.

Before Min can speak again, the Lieutenant takes his hand away from his face. “We’re discussing how to get her back. It’s more involved than we expected. Posting bail is no longer an option.”

“So we break her out! Kirin’s scouted the jail a hundred times, we have the maps for it!” Min’s almost shouting, his voice hoarse and raw. I lay my hand on his arm and he looks down at me and shakes his head. I drop my hand. He has to yell and get this out. I just have to watch his back.

“He’s right.” My voice is a much calmer contrast. “You’ve had me in and out of the jail at least a dozen times over the past few years. I know which guards are on our money. I can get in and get her out. I’d just need a transport to get us back. I could do it.”

I glance at Amon for a moment, long enough to catch his eye. Not afraid. This would be one of the missions he sends me on alone. If I can use my bending, I can pull it off without a hitch.

The Lieutenant slams his hand onto the table. “We aren’t sending you in there alone! If we break in, we’ll send a whole team, not just you. Or just the four of you, either. It’s too dangerous for you to go by yourself. There are still other options besides force, anyway.”

Yuki is usually the one advocating for peaceful methods. I wonder if he would have gone along with that plan, if anyone other than me had suggested it.

“She’s already been captured. We can’t make rescuing her the priority! We have to focus on preventing that from happening again. Make sure we’re all better trained and better prepared,” The thick-browed advisor across the table from us says.

Time slows down again. Min makes a strangled noise in his throat, and then he lunges for the advisor. We’re all moving. I throw myself between them, and the punch aimed for the advisor slams squarely into my jaw. I’m screaming for him to stop and Lee is grabbing his arms to drag him back. Kal grabs his waist, everyone in the room shouting at once, Min included, and then she’s hitting him. He drops to the ground, immobile and unconscious in a few seconds. She, Lee, and I only stare at each other. I rub my jaw.

“Take him to a cell to cool off!” The Lieutenant snaps. No one moves. “Well?! The kids can’t carry him! Kalea, would you look at Kirin’s jaw? This meeting is dismissed, go on!”

There’s another flurry of action. Kal turns my head from side to side and I open and close my mouth without her prompting. It hurts, but I’m used to a little pain, and none of my teeth are loose. She nods. “You’re good.”

I’m not sure how much instruction she actually got in the few weeks Yuki was teaching her. But since my jaw feels like it is actually alright, I’ll trust her on this one.

At some point, she and I wind up alone in the hallway, with me slumped against the wall. The Lieutenant stayed behind in the room with Amon. Two of the advisors and Lee took Min to the cells. The others went back to whatever it is they do normally.

Kal sits down across from me and takes my hands. I don’t look up, even when she speaks, whisper-quiet. “It’s going to be okay.”

***

No one says how long they plan to keep Min in the “special prisoner” cells. Most of his clothes are gone from the room, though, so we assume it’s going to be a while. It’s probably for the best. Not just because he attacked an advisor. He’s logical and smart, until his mother gets involved in something--then he loses it. None of us want to risk him doing something stupid. Still, it’s strange without him around. It’s strange waking up in the middle of the night and looking across to his bunk, only to find him gone. You’d think I’d get used to it after the first few nights.

The advisors keep debating. I’m not invited back to any other meetings. I keep Aya’s picture in my pocket, though I only halfway look for her father. I’m not sure what I’d say if I found him. His family is living in poverty because of him? His daughter is still looking for him to come home?

Yuki stays in jail. Kal is promoted up in the ranks of the “nurses”. She’s younger than the others, but she was the one Yuki herself trained, and Yuki’s the only one who actually did any amount of work as a real nurse in the city. The others are mostly mothers who know how to patch up scrapes or put ice on bruises or stitch up a cut. Kal is in charge of the medicines and setting bones. And it weighs on her. It changes her. She’s still soft and gentle, but she squares her shoulders differently, lifts her chin and raises her voice. She’s...braver.

But that doesn’t mean she stops training. It’s been a week, and with my father caught up in advisor meetings, she and I have been put in charge of training the new recruits. No one younger than us, but they all have very little experience, which means we can still boss them around. They won’t like it, but they’ll listen to us.

It should be my father and Yuki standing here, on the edge of the mat, watching clumsy-footed adults struggle to keep up with our examples, when they’re only fighting with dummies. We invested in training dummies a year or so after Kal, Lee, Min, and I graduated from the stage of training where they would have been useful. We were the last year that learned everything we know the hard way, fighting each other.

She and I lean back against the wall, my arms crossed. Her lips are pursed into a thin line, and I’m not sure if my expression is any more encouraging.

“Kirin!” Lee’s voice breaks suddenly through the radio music that was playing, across the intercom. Everyone stops. “Kirin, turn the radio on, right now! There’s a press conference on the news!”

He must hang up, because the music starts again, but I’m already climbing up to the intercom and the radio to change the channel. Kal shouts at the group. “We didn’t say stop, you know!”

I’m half in a panic flipping through the radio stations. A press conference. Is Amon supposed to interrupt this one? Are they talking about Yuki?

It’s the councilman. I look back at Kal over my shoulder, and she raises her hand for the recruits to stop. Everything’s quiet except for the radio. The councilman throws around things like “nothing to fear”. Nothing to fear. Amon is just a man, but they’ve got plenty to fear and plenty to worry about.

Kal hovers by my shoulder as the microphone shifts to pick up the faint voice of a reporter.

“It’s not about Yuki,” I whisper to her, as if it weren’t already obvious. She rests her hand on my arm, but I don’t turn to look at her, too afraid of missing something. The reporter asks why the Avatar hasn’t found Amon yet. Kal and I snort.

Then it’s chaos.

“Amon is hiding in the shadows like a coward!” The Avatar says it like she has everything figured out. A few of the recruits shout back at the radio like it’ll shut her up, but that’s nothing compared to the noise outside. They must be broadcasting this throughout the tunnels. “...Tonight at midnight on Avatar Aang Memorial Island.”

She keeps talking, but Kal and I are already moving. Or I am, anyway. Kal trails behind me, her hand still halfway wrapped around my arm.

“Where are you going?” She asks, skipping a few steps to get to my side. People in the halls are still yelling at the radios or talking amongst themselves--will Amon take the challenge, of course he will, he’s not a coward, how dare the Avatar even suggest it.

I shoulder my way through a cluster of people. “The radios. I want to know what he decides, and he’ll be in there.”

“You know exactly what he’s going to do. You want to talk to Lee.” She shrugs when I look back to glare at her.

Really need to get less observant friends.

Lee’s hunched over his station when we walk in. Only a handful of techies look up. The rest of them keep working furiously on whatever they’re doing. Lee doesn’t even look up until I touch his shoulder.

“No response yet. Probably still processing. He’s got...six hours to midnight. We don’t know if he’ll make a public response. She says no back up. We’re getting scouts set up to see if she really means it. You’re not on for that. Got...I have no idea who’s on for that. Things are a bit hectic, and I don’t really have time to eat, if that’s what you’re here for.” He rattles off the report like I’m someone important enough to warrant it. We agreed on that when he first got transferred--he gives the rest of us the information we might miss, being out of the communications loop.

“I’m not here to make you eat. I was just here to check on the response. Did they broadcast to Min?” The prisons don’t usually get radio service, but with it being Min and it being the special prisons, there’s a chance.

Lee shrugs. “No clue. I figured we’d have heard him shouting by now if he heard.”

The door slams open again, and we all turn simultaneously. The Lieutenant looms in the doorframe. This time, most of the heads in the room turn to look--I suppose since Kal and I are already here, whoever’s at the door isn’t anyone they expect.

“Lee, Kirin, come on. Kalea, they want you back in the nurses’ office,” He barks out the orders, and we’re out of sync when we move. Kal squeezes my hand and takes off at a sprint. Lee runs over my foot with his chair in his haste to get up.

We move through the halls much faster with the Lieutenant in front. People are intimidated by him, just like they’re intimidated by Amon. But Amon doesn’t walk the halls as often.

“Decision’s been made. He’s going out before midnight to get the drop on her. Keep her waiting. And he’s taking back-up. You two are on for that.” There’s a pause, and I look up at him, barely catching an eye roll. “You two plus the main guard. Twenty-one of you going out there, total. Wanted you two since you’ve fought her before.”

Lee and I look at each other, and neither of us mention that in the time since our encounter with the Avatar, she’s had plenty of training. We have too, of course, but not with the police or a councilman. And if the request comes from Amon himself, there’s no point challenging it. We’re going. And there’s six hours of chaotic preparation to come.

***

She doesn’t check the whole island first. We sit and wait in the interior of the information building, Lee and I crowded together under a shop counter. She climbs to the top of the building, and all of us, all twenty-three of us counting her and Amon, hold our breath for four hours. No one yawns, no one moves, not even when my knees start to lock up and my arms grow stiff.

Then, finally, there’s nothing more than soft thump and a whoosh to get us moving. It’s slow progress at first, back to the rotunda to get into position. Each of the entrances to the rotunda has one of the main guards watching it. Unless she decides to fly off, someone’s going to catch her.

And we do catch her.

One of the main guards makes a bulls-eye as she walks by, bola wrapped around her ankles, and then I’m forward and helping pull her in, Lee still glued to my side. She’s up on her hands and there’s fire and I stay forward and for once, Lee doesn’t try to make me move back. At some point we’ve all formed a circle around her. Once the light of the fire fades, we move, in the darkness. Lee and I keep behind her. She keeps shooting fire, trying to keep the light going, but there’s no point.

Two people get her arms wrapped in their bolas, but her feet are free. Lee and I move in, hitting the points down her sides, and then she collapses. We unhook the bolas and shift the circle. Someone goes to signal Amon to come out from the shadows. We aren’t sure how long we’ll have of unconsciousness.

The main guards shuffle Lee and I as far from her as possible. Two different ones pull her up by her arms as she starts to stir. I grab Lee’s hand. We threw this plan together in four hours and we only had one to really practice the group dynamics. Getting it right so quickly and with so few problems is luck. A miracle.

Amon’s shifted. When we were waiting, he was just like the rest of us, crouched down and tense, but now he’s back to the Amon everyone recognizes. Smooth and terrifying enough for me to squeeze Lee’s hand.

He lifts the Avatar’s chin and I edge closer to Lee. Here and now, he’s not just a man, and I am afraid. The speech wasn’t prepared. Maybe it was. Maybe while we were scrambling in the training room, Amon was pacing back and forth in his office, deliberating over word choices with the Lieutenant giving him tips.

It’s completely inappropriate to think about. But the image takes the edge off my fear.

“The simplest thing would be to take your bending, but that would only make you a martyr.” He says. I tighten my grip on Lee’s hand.

I’ve seen the balled up papers of discarded speeches. I’ve seen him once, when I was hidden in a cabinet in his office and thought he didn’t know I was there, throw a paper ball at the wall in a moment of rage. Human. Only a man.

Lee drops his head to whisper in my ear, hardly loud enough for me to hear. “Calm down. You’re alright. You’re running hot.”

Running hot. Get my nerves under control, or else someone will start to wonder why I’m a personal heater.

“I will destroy you.”

I wonder if it puts near as much of a shiver down my spine as it puts down the Avatar’s. He’s straightened up and she’s out cold again, whoever had her arms dropping her back to the ground. For a long moment, his eyes meet mine, and I’m rooted to the spot until he turns away.

Everyone else rushes out, Amon in the center for protection as they head back to the tunnel entrance half-covered by a reception counter, but I can’t bring myself to move.

She looks even younger when she’s unconscious. She must be my age. She didn’t choose to be the Avatar. This is her first time even in the city. She had no idea what was going on.

Lee pulls my arm this time, half-dragging me back towards the tunnels. I find my spine again soon enough. I can’t think like that. She’s the Avatar, whether she deserves this or not. I can’t have any sympathy for her. If I do, I wind up like Lee, torn between two loyalties. I know the logic of it. We have years of strategy and years of plans and years of foundation. She’s nothing but an overpowered kid. She can’t win this. But still...she looks so young. Kal doesn’t even look that young.

We seal every door we can behind us. The police will be all over this place when they find out what happened to her. We have enough industrial doors to keep them out. This will not be how they discover our homes.

Lee and I are let go before the rest of the guards. I assume it has to do with our age, and not the Lieutenant whispering something to Amon and pointing at us. At least, I pretend, anyway. There’s still a chill down my spine. I wonder if we have hot water at four in the morning. I won’t risk accidentally melting the shower pipe in our room, but a hot shower would do me good. I couldn’t sleep tonight, and I’d only get a few hours in, anyway. Better if I keep awake.

Kal is snoring when we come in. She’s been awake this whole time, then. Lee doesn’t know her tricks. I motion that I’m going to the bathroom, and he barely nods, already half-asleep and falling onto his bed.

The water’s warm, at least, and I pull the curtain shut behind me. I hear the door open and close and the toilet lid get put down. A second later, Kal pulls back the curtain, perched on the edge of the toilet lid. I sit down on the floor of the shower stall. We sit there in silence and steam for what feels like forever while I try to work around the lump that’s suddenly choking off all my words.

“I think I’m going to ask Amon to take my bending away.”

She nods, slowly. “And what if he doesn’t know, and you tell him?”

“He knows. It’s impossible for him not to. He knows...everything.” Either that, or he thinks I’m just hypercompetent. “And even then, he’ll take it and throw me in the cells. Dad wouldn’t let him kill me. I just...I feel dirty. Like I’m a fraud. I’m a great Equalist. I’m as good as any of you. But I’m still faking this. I’m still one of them.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Kirin. I’m your friend. I’ll support you no matter what you decide, and if he puts you in the cells, I’ll bring you magazines and the good food.” She smiles, and I have to smile back. Kal always supports me. “Rinse out your hair and come to bed. It’s late. ...Or early.”

She leaves me to finish washing my hair. She’s really asleep this time when I come back into the room and crawl up into my bunk. And for once in my entire life, I don’t dream at all.


End file.
